


Petrichor

by MalevolentReverie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Adoption, Age Difference, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Brooding, But He’s Chill W/It, Corpses, Daddy Kink, Dark, Darkfic, Doggy Style, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Frottage, Incest, Incest Kink, Incestuous Sex, Intimidation, Jealousy, Kylo Is A Lunatic, Loss of Virginity, Lots of rain, Missionary Position, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Obviously Unhealthy Relationships, Oregon - Freeform, POV First Person, POV Rey (Star Wars), Pacific Northwest, Parent Death, Plot Twists, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Rain, Rey is 16, Shameless Smut, Shower Sex, Size Difference, Some Reyux, Uncle/Niece Incest, Unsafe Sex, Wakes & Funerals, Writer Ben Solo, Yandere Kylo, gloomy, reclusive, straight-up murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-06-20 07:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15529248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalevolentReverie/pseuds/MalevolentReverie
Summary: Rey Niima's parents die in a tragic accident, leaving her in the custody of her reclusive writer uncle in the Pacific Northwest. He's charming and generous--or so it seems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Петрикор](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16532177) by [AlterE](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlterE/pseuds/AlterE)



> based on a prompt from amethystcat22 on tumblr! and yeah this is incest, like blood related incest

Life isn’t fair—that much I know—but a downpour during my parents’ funeral just seems excessive.

We stand in a small circle, since they didn’t know many people, and the pastor drones about how great they were. My tears have all dried up by now and I can’t bring myself to shed any more. I stare blankly at the casket, silent under grandma Leia’s umbrella. She’s still crying and leaning on grandpa Han. They flew in from Los Angeles for the funeral.

 “Gonna miss them,” Han says gruffly as my parents are lowered into the ground.

Leia nods, wiping her eyes. “Me too.”

My mom, Kira, was their daughter. They weren’t around a lot, but at least they came to Maine to say goodbye. They’d been making plans to visit for the summer. Leia is always busy working in the state senate and Han is never home, though.

I stare down at my feet while we walk back to the car. My parents were good people and life took them away in the blink of an eye. A quick skid on the ice and a horrible phone call later and I’m an orphan.

Leia and Han bring me out for dinner. It’s French, my favorite, but I barely have an appetite. We sit down in a booth near the rainy window when Leia perks up and smiles over her menu. I frown a bit and turn to see what she’s looking at.

A man stands in the doorframe, so tall he takes it up completely, and hands off his hat to the attendant. He shrugs out of his coat and thanks the man in French with a small smile, and I catch his dark eyes. It makes me think of mom. He has her black hair too, but his hangs around his shoulders instead of in a long braid down his back. My heart pounds.

 “Ben, sweetheart!” Leia exclaims. She hurries out of her chair and wraps the strange man in a hug.

Oh… _oh._ Ben—mom’s mysterious twin brother who I’ve never even met. He has a long, kind of melancholy face dotted with moles, and his huge hands eclipse Leia’s whole back. He kisses her temple and smiles as she frets over him, adjusting the collar of his gray dress shirt. He’s dressed up awful nice.

Han huffs. “Missed the fuckin’ funeral. Asshole.”

I agree. I turn away to sip my Coke as they amble over to us. Ben slides into the booth beside me, chatting with his mother, and I pick up the smell of aftershave and mint. He’s somehow even taller sitting next to me and I have to shuffle to make room. Only an asshole misses his sister’s funeral.

 “Flight was delayed,” Ben explains to his father’s glare. “Look it up if you’re not convinced.” His voice is deep and commands attention.

 “Hmph.” Han gestures towards me. “Here’s your niece. Rey, here’s your asshole uncle.”

I offer my hand for a shake, but don’t look up at Ben. “Pleasure.”

His warm hand engulfs mine. “Likewise.”

We peruse the menus for a few minutes before ordering. I’m in the mood for ratatouille and so is Ben, and it turns out it’s both our favorites. This time I decide to give him the privilege of my attention and look up into his penetrating gaze. He smiles. He has mom’s hair and eyes, but not her face.

 “You like French food?” he asks.

 “I even eat escargot.” I sip my Coke, smug. “ _And_ clams.”

 “Frog legs?” he prompts with a smirk.

I smirk back and nod. “Duh.”

Leia makes a face. “Just like her mother.” She nudges Han with her elbow. “Remember, Han? After Kira had had appendix out she ate nothing but snails for a week. Turned my stomach watching her crack the shells, but she refused everything else.”

Ben thanks the waiter for a glass of red wine and swirls it once before taking a sip. The legs run down the inside in broad strokes—dad told me that means it’s boozy. He points the rim toward his mother and smiles, big hands graceful somehow.

 “That’s because you spoiled the shit out of her.” He sighs, drinking again. “All I had was ice cream after my tonsils were taken out—”

 “That’s all we could give you!” Han snaps.

Leia laughs and pats Han’s arm. “Okay, honey; take it down a notch.”

They all chat and Han gradually loosens up, but he still shoots Ben dirty looks and grunts during most of the dinner. I’m not sure why we’ve never met. He seems nice, and Leia explains that he’s a famous writer who lives out in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon. He likes the constant rain and the redwoods.

Mom mentioned him a couple times and dad said he was nice, but reclusive. Isn’t that kind of what writers usually do, though? Stephen King does.

I laugh at the stories from when he and mom were kids and how they wanted to get married, but Leia told them they’d have two-headed babies. Ben casually drinks through his wine, gesticulating with his Rolex wrist, and eventually finishes the bottle with Leia. I chew on the last bits of my ratatouille and watch them laughing. This is nice. I haven’t laughed in forever. It’s like a dark cloud hangs over me.

At the end of dinner, the awkward stuff starts. I’m still sixteen and my parents are dead. I need a place to live and I’m guessing that’s with my grandparents. It’s okay—California is nice. Went plenty of times on trips with mom and dad.

Leia clears her throat. “Rey, honey. We’ve been talking about where you should move, and your Uncle Ben had some good points.”

 “California?” I chirp hopefully.

Ben takes the check before Han can. Leia watches them squabble and shakes her head.

 “Your grandpa and I aren’t ever home,” she says, “and your uncle lives near one of the best school systems in the country. You want to go to Washington State, right?”

 “…Yeah.” I glance up at Ben. “I don’t want to impose, though.” And I hate rain. And it’s always dark there.

Ben hands the check and a black credit card to the waitress. “It’s not an imposition. I have a huge empty house and I’m quite literally _always_ home.” He pats my thigh under the table and gives a gentle squeeze. “It’s only another year a half or so, right?”

 “Yeah,” I mumble. “Okay.”

I’m going to Oregon, then. I guess I should be grateful to have a home at all.

Ben doesn’t let go of my thigh. “It’s a fresh start, Rey. I’ll make sure you’re happy.”

 “Okay,” I grumble. It’s not fricken California— _that_ would make me happy.

We go back to my house so I can finish packing. I’m throwing everything away except some of my clothes because I just want to forget it all. I inherit when I turn eighteen, but I can sell the house. Leia already has some interested buyers and she’s going to put the money away for me for college.

I spend the night at the hotel with all of them, looking through old pictures of mom and dad. His parents passed a long time ago, so we don’t have many baby pictures. Ben is in a few. He’s always scowling and mom is always draped all over him with a big toothy grin. He almost chokes on his whiskey when Leia takes out a picture of him drunk in a dress during dad’s bachelor party.

 “Burn it!” he coughs. He reaches for it and Leia laughs and hands it off to me.

I snatch it and squeal as he comes after me. Han’s laughing too, nursing his own tumbler of whiskey, and Leia yells for me to protect the picture at all costs. Ben swears and almost falls over when we get to the bedroom, and I try to slam the door shut.

He shoves it open and snags me around the waist before I can get away. I squeal and flail my legs, giggling, and Ben swings me around, stumbling.

 “I’m—” He grunts and staggers toward the bed. “Jesus, kid! I’m gonna drop—”

We fall right on the bed. Ben swears again and finishes his drink before dropping the tumbler on the floor so he can commit both hands to wrestling me. He goes for tickling and I shriek, but refuse to give up the picture hidden under my stomach. Leia and Han talk in the other room and Ben growls in my ear.

 “I swear to god,” he pants, “I will unadopt you!”

 “Too late for that!”

Ben rolls me over on my back and straddles my hips. He seizes both wrists in one hand and breathes hard as he plucks the picture from my fingers.

He smiles. “Don’t test me.”

The next morning, we all part ways at the airport. I kiss and hug my grandparents and Ben promises to call and give them updates. He has some paperwork to sign, since he’s taking custody from them, but it’s all online apparently. I’m not an orphan anymore at least, and that feels good.

I watch my grandparents walk away and feel Ben touch the small of my back. He’s smiling when I look up and I beam at him.  

 “Ready?” he asks.

I nod. “Ready.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't u guys love when everything is funny and okay and you know i'm going to ruin everything

Shockingly, it’s raining when we touch down in Oregon. I’m tempted to bitch about it, but settle for quietly following my new guardian through the airport. It’s a huge terminal and I feel kind of lost in the crowd with the swell of chatter and rolling luggage around us. I get distracted by a woman walking past with a golden retriever and Ben jerks me to his side by the back of my coat.

 “Hey!” I snap. “Rude!”

He grabs my hand. “Oh, that’s nothing—now I’m going to embarrass you by holding your hand in public.” His dark eyes flicker to me and he tries and fails to hide a smile. “Better than one of those toddler leashes, right?”

 “I don’t know anyone here and they don’t know we’re related,” I snip, “so you look like a big old PEDOPHILE!”

I shout the last word and attract a lot of eyes. Ben laughs uncomfortably and wraps an arm around my head to cover my mouth with his palm. His hand almost engulfs over my entire face. I hiss and pull on his coat as we keep walking.

 “Oh, _niece_!” he exclaims loudly, still laughing and squeezing me to his side. “You’re such a comedian! Next Carlin over here!” He wrestles my struggles to get away and his laughter fades, voice dropping. “I’m selling you on Craigslist.”

I stick my tongue through Ben’s fingers and he mutters ‘your mother did worse.’ We walk that way all through the airport and outside to the parking lot, until he lets go next to his black Audi. He laughs when I slap his bicep silly and opens the passenger door for me. What a _dick._

It smells like new car. The seats are leather and it’s spotless; maybe even cleaner than an actual new car. I look around while Ben puts our luggage in the trunk and open the glovebox to snoop. There’s an operating manual, paper napkins, and… zip ties? I frown at the multicolored mess as Ben slips in the driver’s seat.

 “What are these for?” I ask, picking up a green one.

 “Murder.”

My head snaps around, eyes wide, and I scowl when he bursts out laughing. Ben turns on the car and shifts into reverse, shaking his head.

 “You make it too fucking easy,” he sighs. He watches the camera as he backs up. “I use them to bind manuscripts. And the wrists of the dead bodies I throw in the trunk.”

 “Fuck you!” I snap, chucking the thing back and crossing my arms.

He keeps laughing as he shifts into gear. “Are you going to pout now? We can’t go shopping if you’re going to pout.”

Hmm… I’m always interested in a shopping trip. I raise my eyebrows a bit, casting him a sideways glance, but not giving my full attention. Ben shifts into second gear and rolls his lips like he’s trying not to laugh at me again.

 “…Shopping, you say?” I examine my nails. “What… _variety_ of shopping?”

 “The clothing and bedroom décor _variety.”_

Hmm. I do need those things. I sigh and flip my hair over my shoulder, then plaster a big, weird smile on my face. Ben gives me the same bizarre smile right back and we both laugh. Really— _why_ did I never meet him until now? He’s hilarious.

We go to Bed Bath & Beyond first. I pick out a bedroom set with white floral sheets, along with different stuff to hang up on the walls, and some pillows. Ben leans on the cart and makes stupid comments about every little thing (“A red area rug? Are you a 19th century prostitute?” and “A beach picture doesn’t match the feng shui of the house, Rey”) like it’s his job. He checks his phone a few times while I vehemently defend every single thing I pick.

That’s about as much as we can handle. We decide to go shopping for clothes tomorrow and head back to Ben’s house—well, our house now. I thank him until I’m out of breath and he waves me off.

The drive takes us through towering pines and redwoods, along a bleak black road through heavy rain. There aren’t many houses along the way, and I haven’t seen one for miles when we pull up to Ben’s driveway. It’s curvy and dark, twisting through the dense trees like I’m heading into a horror movie. I peer out the window and yelp at the sight of glowing yellow eyes watching from the trees.

 “Wolves,” Ben says casually. “There’s a lot up here. Cougars, too. Bears.”

 “…Great.” I lean back, wringing my hands. “Do they like… bother you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope. They mind their own business.” His lips turn in a smile and he rubs his nose. “I feed them the dead—”

 “Fuck _you._ ”

Ben just laughs.

We pull up to our house: a neat log cabin, similar to the ones in backwoods Maine. It’s huge. The porch wraps all the way around and trees frame the place in a spooky kind of way, swaying gently with the wind and rain. A nice little garden lines the front, but he otherwise doesn’t have much landscaping.

Ben cuts the engine and gestures with both hands. “Ta-da! Impressed?”

I shrug, gathering my purse. “No.”

He helps me bring everything inside. I wander around, ducking into the kitchen with stainless steel, the formal dining room, and the living room. Everything has that cabin-type furniture like when you stay at a fancy resort hotel, all printed with deer and stuff like that. It’s supposed to feel homey but comes off as an act. He hasn’t put his own touches on the house. Probably paid someone to decorate.

Ben leads me upstairs to the second floor, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. I’ll have my own, he has his own, and there’s a half bath downstairs. He nudges open the door and leans on it as I step inside my new enormous room that overlooks the forest. The floors are all dark hardwood and creak under my bare feet. I stand near my balcony and stare into the darkness, and my chest hurts.

 “Is it always this gloomy?” I croak. I’m about to cry, but I’m still going to resist it.

Ben slides his hands over my shoulders and squeezes. “The sun always comes back out.”

I nod stiffly and wipe tears that dribble down my cheeks. Ben doesn’t say a word. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight as I slip into my first crying spell in a week. It’s cathartic with the rain pounding outside. He has a pool in the backyard—that’s kind of cool. And he smells like peppermint and aftershave, and he’s tall and huge, so maybe I’m safe to show how fucking _mad_ I am about losing my parents. It’s not fucking fair.

I cling to his forearms, sobbing. “This isn’t fair!”

 _Life’s not fair._ And it’s not, but no one is going to say that to my face.

Ben doesn’t respond to that, either. He embraces me while I scream and cry and stamp my feet. I don’t want to live in fucking Oregon—I want to live in Maine with my parents, and I want my old stuff back, and I want mom to wake me up by jumping in my bed. What if I forget the sound of her voice or the smell of her perfume? What if I forget dad’s laugh or his stupid jokes?

I cry until I can’t breathe. I’m weightless, like a feather in the wind, but Ben is as immovable as the redwoods. He scoops me up when I start falling and carries me down the long hallway to another bedroom. I sniffle like the pitiful little girl I am, curling my arms against his chest. I close my eyes. I’m so tired. I miss my mom and dad.

Ben peels back sheets. “Sleep here for the night. I’ll get your bed ready and put up your awful decorations.”

I crack a smile and hiccup a laugh. “Jerk.”

He helps me under the covers—gray; oi vei—and pats my arm before he turns and leaves. My eyes are so swollen from crying that I can’t look around the room properly. I sniff and slip into another crying jag that seems to be the ticket to falling asleep. Rain drums on the sliding glass door as I drift off into a dream about Ben bringing me back to Maine.

I miss my mom and dad.

But they’re not here. I wake up to that sad realization like I do every day now, this time alone in my uncle’s huge bed. It’s warm and the sheets are soft, but I feel cold and alone. They’re never coming back.

Ben’s room is just as sparsely decorated as the rest of his house. I look around, crawling out of bed, and rub the sleepiness from my eyes. It’s all woodsy tourist stuff, from the same person who decorated the first floor. I yawn and shuffle downstairs to find my new ‘dad,’ and see him sitting at the kitchen island.

He glances at me over his shoulder. He’s in sweats and a gray T-shirt with a piece of bacon between his lips. Ben points at the glass door, still covered in raindrops, but the sun has risen over the trees and makes the drops sparkle.

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Let me mope.”

 “Mope away,” he says, going back to his laptop. “There’s bacon and eggs, and you’re free to make toast. Only have rye bread because I’m thirty-three and that’s what old people eat.”

 “You’re not old.” I pop in two slices of bread in the toaster and scoop scrambled eggs on a plate with six pieces of bacon. “Leia and Han are old.”

Ben shrugs and hardly looks up as I sit next to him. “True. Want some juice or something?”

 “I’m good.”

We sit in silence. I wolf down my food and have four slices of toast while Ben sips his coffee and watches with mixed fascination and revulsion. I can put it away. That’s what dad always said. Mom was big in to gorging herself, too.

I stare back at Ben. “What?” I ask with my mouth full.

 “Nothing. You just eat like a wild animal.”

 “You _look_ like a wild animal,” I retort, almost spitting out eggs.  

He seizes my jaw in one hand, yanks me closer, and presses his fingertips into my cheeks. I blink up at him and see his dark eyes… change. His jaw clenches.

Ben pushes up, smiling at me. “Chew with your mouth closed.”

I open it wider, resisting his strong grasp. I’m stubborn and spiteful, which I get from my mother, too. Ben turns in his stool and drags mine up to his so he can lean over me, perching his feet on either side of mine. I snort with laughter as he readjusts his hold and pushes harder. He keeps smiling.

 “You think you’re funny?” Ben murmurs. He tries to pinch my nose and I swat his hand away. He grabs my wrist. “Ah, ah—you need to swallow your food.”

I do as fast as I can and gasp for air. Ben turns my chair abruptly and pushes my plate closer, but doesn’t say anything more. I peek up over and see he’s still smirking, so obviously he isn’t _really_ mad. I shovel more eggs in my mouth and tap his shoulder, already giggling under my breath. I really am the next George—

Ben yanks me out of my stool and into his lap before I can finish the thought. He wraps an arm around my stomach and tugs my plate over with a high-pitched scraping sound. I nearly smack my face off the island and hiss in protest, again swallowing to avoid choking to death. Ben goes right back to his laptop like nothing happened and stifles my attempts to escape.

 “Hey!” I snap.

 “Yeah, ‘hey’ _you._ ” He types with one hand and restrains me with the other. “Can’t show me the fucking food in your mouth if I can’t see your goofy face. Eat. We have shit to do today.”

Oh—yeah?! I wolf down more eggs, the last of them, and lean my head back to look up at Ben. He scowls and his eyes seem darker as he seizes my jaw again, harder this time. Ben curves his long fingers across my cheeks to force my mouth closed. I don’t know why I’m doing it. It’s the kind of dumb stuff I’d always do with dad to bug mom.

Ben holds tight, staring down at me. “Swallow.”

I growl but give in a swallow the last of the eggs. Ben’s gaze flickers to my throat and he pushes me out of his lap in the next moment. I stagger to my stool and collapse in it, licking my lips. Pfft. And he says I’m easy to tease.

 “Do you ever have girls over?” I chirp.

He doesn’t flinch. “No. I don’t like strangers in my house.” Ben glances at me. “Including whatever friends you make. No play dates here.”

 “Sixteen-year-olds don’t have play dates, thanks. Are you like… gay?”

 “No—I just like my privacy.” He offers me a tight smile. “I’ll take my one night stands to the hotel like a responsible adult. Don’t worry.”

The response floors me. Ben cocks his head innocently while I splutter and try to find my words. Oh… god. One night stands—I don’t need to hear about or even think about—

 “Gross!” I snap, face turning hot.

He raises his eyebrows and smiles. “Well you asked. Do we need to have the bird and the bees conversation or—”

Ugh! I gag and run off before he can say anything else. Ben doesn’t follow, but I can imagine his smug smirk. Fine. Maybe he _is_ a better tease than me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive me  
> jk this isn't even that bad yet

  “So, what do you write?”

Ben looks up at me from the shopping cart he’s leaning on, hanging his head like buying groceries is pure torture. He’s in a cream sweater at my behest, because everything else makes him look like a depressed alcoholic history teacher. It’s day three of my new life in Oregon and things are going well.

He shrugs, rubbing his face. “Uh… you know. Freelance articles, novels… whatever I want. Why?”

 “Just wondering.” I arch on my tiptoes for a box of cereal and feel his dark eyes on me. “Mom said you use a pseudonym.”

 “I do.”

 “What is it?”

Ben pops up as I’m about to fall off the low shelf I’m standing on. He plucks the cereal from the top and tosses it in the cart instead of handing it to me. I stick my tongue out when he turns his back.

 “The whole point is for no one to know,” he says. “I don’t do interviews and shit, either. I want people to leave me the hell alone.”

 “Then why did you volunteer to take me?” I ask without missing a beat.

A woman rolls by with her screaming toddler at that moment and we step aside to give her room. I take the opportunity to sneak a box of Captain Crunch in the cart and look up innocently when Ben sighs. He nudges me with his hip and leans on the cart handle, walking off without answering my question.

Han and Leia _could_ have taken me, but I’d be alone a lot. Still, if Ben is so serious about being left alone, inviting a teenage girl to live with him seems… odd. Maybe I should shut up and be grateful.

We move on to the dairy section next. Ben picks up whole milk and I retch and put it back. He has the same reaction to skim, so we settle on one percent. I check a carton of a dozen eggs and put it in the top of the cart, then grab a container of plain yogurt. It’s good with cereal—like a parfait. Kind of.

Ben sighs. “You eat like a ninety-year-old man with stomach cancer.”

 “It’s called ‘being healthy.’” I shoot him a dirty look between checking avocados for ripeness.

 “Yeah, but at what cost?”

I chuck a grape at his face.

Back at home we manage to get the groceries put away without wasting any more grapes. Ben takes a handful and idly eats while I talk on the phone with grandma about settling in and stuff. He follows behind me, deliberately stepping in my way, and smirks when I try and fail to move him. I huff and try to slap the grapes out of his hand.

Ben nurses a tumbler of bourbon, watching me flit around the kitchen. I meet his tipsy stare and stick my tongue out. He smiles, leaning on the island, casually popping grapes in his mouth. His cheeks have a pink hue from the booze.

 “I’ll drop you off at school,” he says. “It’s only a twenty minute drive.” He keeps smiling, slowly chewing a grape, eyeing me. “You excited?”

I shrug. “I guess. I don’t know.”

Night has fallen. I’m keeping busy to avoid thinking about school and how I probably won’t make any friends. I lean on my tiptoes to rearrange part of his pantry, organizing soups alphabetically and other canned goods by variety. I look away from Ben to do my work and hope he wanders off.

He just wanders closer. The television plays softly in the living room as he steps up maybe an inch behind me, close enough that I can feel his body heat on my back. He eats the rest of his grapes in silence while I keep organizing. The hair on my nape stands up.

Ben sighs. “Creamy tomato comes _before_ regular tomato, Rey.” A long arm reaches past me to switch the cans. I smell bourbon. “Another victim of the public school system’s poor education.”

I relax a little at his teasing tone and turn to look up at him. His dark eyes are already on me, hazy from the alcohol, and we’re… close. Very close. I blink as he takes a drink of bourbon without breaking his stare. He’s maybe six inches in front of me.

I clear my throat. “So, I can’t bring any friends back here?”

 “No.” Ben raises his eyebrows. “ _Especially_ boys.”

 “Okay, dad. What if I’m a lesbian?”

He snorts from laughter and almost spills his drink on me. I watch smugly as he tries to recover, turning to cough and choke on the bourbon.

 “Can’t get pregnant that way,” Ben wheezes.

Oh—so that’s what this is about. I’m suddenly not in the mood for joking around and I shove him out of my way. He polishes off his drink and follows me with the empty glass, then doubles back to refill it. I storm upstairs with my fists clenched.

 “I’m not getting knocked up in high school like mom!” I snap.

 “Rey, come on, I’m just—”

I slam my bedroom door shut.

Irritated, I pace the floor and chew my nails. Mom got pregnant with me when she was my age and I was born right before her high school graduation. I’m going to be seventeen soon, so I’m not following in her footsteps. The only thing I’ve ever done is make out with a guy and let him get to second base; nowhere near anything that would get me pregnant.

Ben knocks on the door an hour later. I don’t answer, but he lets himself in anyway. I yank the covers over my head and he sighs as he sits next to me on my bed. Ice tinkers in his glass. He’s still drinking.

 “Sorry,” he mutters. He takes a sip. “Teenage boys are assholes, though.”

 “Well I’m not a moron.”

 “True.” Ben tugs the blanket down to see my face and brushes my hair back. “But you’re a good girl, and they go after the good girls first.”

I glower at him. He’s in flannel pajama pants and a white tank top, but the room is so dark that I can hardly make out his face. I swat his hand away and sit up in bed with my arms crossed, annoyed.

 “I’m not as innocent as you think I am.”

The moonlight lances across Ben’s face, illuminating his small smile. He stares at me as he takes another drink, then offers me the tumbler. I glance between the amber liquid and his dark eyes before I snatch the glass and take a sip.

I’ve had a bit of wine before, but this tastes _awful._ I cough some of it back up and Ben laughs and refuses to take the tumbler back. I cover my mouth and groan. Oh god. It tastes like fucking dirt.

 “No, no,” he chides, pushing the tumbler back to me, “now you have to finish it.” He runs the tip of his tongue along his upper lip. “Tell you what—finish one full glass of that and I’ll let you drive the Audi to school.”

 “You’re on,” I manage between coughs.

Ben comes back with the bottle of bourbon and two shot glasses. I push back my sheets and adjust, waving my hands and taking deep breaths, and he pours the shots. My heart pounds. This is probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done.

He sits next to me with his long legs folded and clinks the glasses together. Rain patters on the window over my bed and I glance at the sliding glass door.

 “Technically this isn’t a glass,” I say, gazing out into the darkness.

 “Shots are easier when you’re dealing with dark liquor.” Ben tosses back the first shot without flinching. “Plus, it’s good practice for parties.” He sighs and pours another shot, shaking his head. “God help me. You’ll be invited to those I’m sure.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and get half the shot down. Ben laughs and touches my hand to make me finish the rest, which I do with a dramatic gag. It burns down my throat into my stomach.  

 “I don’t go to parties,” I cough.

 “You will. You’re pretty like Kira was.”

After two more shots, I’m dizzy and drowsy. Ben watches me sway from side to side and fold over myself from trying to stay upright. The liquor is forgotten as I slump into Ben’s lap, moaning about how tired I am and how much I hate rain. He runs his fingers through my hair. My ears ring.

 “I always go after the good girls.”

I frown and turn to look up at Ben. He smiles down at me and strokes my cheek with his knuckles. My mouth is dry, but I feel like I can’t swallow. I’m drunk, I think, but I’ve never been drunk to know.

Mesmerized, I reach out to cup his pale cheek in my palm. Ben closes his eyes and leans into my touch. His skin is warm and smooth with some scratchy stubble where his beard is coming in. All I can smell is bourbon and peppermint, and all I can hear is the rain drumming on the cabin. The bottle of bourbon is almost empty on the nightstand.

He opens his eyes slightly. “Have you done anything with boys?”

 “Duh.”

 “Show me.”

I laugh, drawing my hand back to my side. Ben smiles and watches me roll out of his lap and lurch onto my knees. He seizes the front of my pajama top and I yelp as I drop on my hands on knees in front of him. The bed creaks and Ben tangles his fingers in my hair to yank my head back, forcing me to look up.

 “I _said_ ,” he whispers, “show me.”

I’m clinging to his calves, trying not to fall over in his lap. Ben stares at me for a full minute while I try to collect myself. The room spins around us and I realize I’m probably not going to remember what’s happening. Does he know that? Am I dreaming?

I lick my lips. “Well… I’ve only gotten to second base.”

 “When? With who?”

 “Last summer with my friend Neil.” I wince, pawing at his hand in my hair. “That hurts.”

Ben lets go, but pulls me in his lap with my back to his chest. He snatches my wrists and slides his huge hands under mine so I’m holding the back of them, knitting my small fingers through the gaps in his. He breathes near my ear and I smell peppermint.

 “Show me,” he repeats.

 “Okay,” I acquiesce, too drunk to care. I shift my hips and push Ben’s hands to my boobs without a second thought. “Ta-daaa…”

He murmurs in my ear. “Not even under your shirt? That’s the best part.”

 “We usually just made out. Scared of mom walking in.” My eyes well up and I burst into tears. “I miss my mom, Ben. And dad. I want them back.”

 “I know, Rey—but it’s just us now.”

Ben’s fingers undulate under mine as he gently kneads my breasts. Something jolts in my hindbrain: maybe revulsion or maybe arousal. I grab his knees and gawk at the careful movement of his fingers, but I can’t see much in the darkness. I hear fabric ruffling and my own whimper when his thumbs circle my nipples, teasing but not quite touching.

Ben whispers in my hair. “Was it like this?”

I shake my head, too busy biting my lower lip to open my mouth. Tears drip down my cheeks and he presses his cheek to mine, smearing them across our skin. I stare at his hands and squirm.

 “Don’t cry.” His voice takes on a deep, sinister edge. “There are much worse things I’m going to do to you—and I’ll make sure you remember them.”

 “I want to go home,” I sob.

Ben’s hands push under my top and his middle fingers stroke my nipples. He holds me still, big hands wrapping around my ribs, and his nose brushes through my hair. I push into his groin and he pushes back with a low groan.

He lies in my pillows and continues idly playing with one breast while controlling my hip with the other. I have to recline on his chest and fight the urge to pass out until I can’t anymore.

Ben hums as he pulls the sheets over us and helps me lie in my stomach on top of him. He grasps my hips, grinding against me, and kisses the side of my head. I hear him once more between his groans before I fall asleep. I want to go home…

 “You are home, Rey.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEVER DOUBT MY PLOT TWISTS

It feels a bit like I’m on the brink of death when I wake up the next morning.

Groaning, I push upright in my floral sheets and clutch my pounding head. My TV is on, tuned in to some jewelry channel, and the drone of the salesman’s voice is the only sound in the room. I grimace and rub my face as my bedroom door creaks open. Something feels… off.

 “Need a little hair of the dog, Rey?”

I squint at Ben standing in the bedroom doorway with a cocky grin on his face. He’s dressed in a black sweater and dark jeans with his mop of hair pulled back in a top knot. I almost puke at the taste in my mouth. Ugh… it’s salty and… boozy.

 “Why didn’t you stop me?” I croak, too weak to yell.

 “Not like you were throwing the shots back, kid. You had two before this Greek tragedy started.” He saunters into my room and peers around. “First day of school with a hangover—just like Kira.”

 “Mom didn’t drink.”

 “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about your mother.”

Uh… _that_ is impossible. Mom and I were best friends. We did literally everything together and never hid a single thing. I massage my temples and roll my eyes at Ben. I knew her better than anyone—even her brother. She never talked about him anyway, so how can he possibly know things I don’t?

Ben sits on the edge of my bed and checks his watch. “I’ll drop you off today. Don’t want a DUI on top of your hangover. Want something for breakfast?”

 “I don’t care,” I mutter. I slump forward, dangling my forearms off the edge of the bed. “I’m never drinking again.”

Fingers comb through my hair. My scalp prickles from the touch, but I don’t swat Ben away. I close my eyes and imagine it’s mom winding in a braid.

 “Famous last words,” Ben says. He traces a fingertip down my nape. His fingers fan into a casual back rub with his broad palm. “You’ll be drinking like a fish in college, I’m sure. Not so much when you’re sixteen and living with your uncle.”

I grunt. He laughs and keeps rubbing my back and I don’t stop him. It feels great—his hand is huge and he puts on just enough pressure to work out the kinks in my muscles. I don’t look up as I grope my way into his lap, tugging on his jeans, and flop my upper half there with a huff. Ben gently brushes my hair from my neck with his other hand.

We don’t say anything. He massages my back and works the knots free in my hair while I doze off again. It’s nice to lie in the quiet and be touched.

I yawn. “Mom used to do this when I was sick.”

 “Mhm. She leaned it from me.” Ben slips his hand under my shirt and teases a tingling trail up my spine with a fingertip. “I’d do this whenever she had an ear infection—which was pretty much _constantly_. Did the same thing when she had her appendix out.”

 “It’s nice,” I mumble. “She never talked about you. Did something happen?”

He doesn’t respond. I figure it’s none of my business and let it go—for now. Don’t want my back rub to be interrupted, either. I doze off again in Ben’s lap.

But responsibilities call. He wakes me up and I shower and get dressed for school. I’m exhausted and groggy during breakfast, and barely manage to drag myself to the car, but I make it to the small high school with Ben driving.

He parks by the curb and rests his forearm on the back of my seat. “Make good choices. Don’t buy cheap weed.”

 “…Thanks.”

Ben smiles and cups the back of my head so he can kiss my forehead. I laugh at the gesture and wave goodbye as I clamber out of the Audi.

I’m a little late. I head inside the brick building and find the reception desk. The secretary escorts me through the halls to my home room, where she drops me off in front of two dozen staring juniors. I’ll be seventeen in May, about a month from now, and eighteen after I graduate.

The teacher is nice—Ms Holdo. Her purple hair and turtleneck make her look like a hippie, just like Ben said. _Lots of crunchy hippies around here, Rey._ I press my lips together to hide a smirk.

They’re all cliquey of course. I meet Rose in calculus though and we’re almost instant friends. She’s awkward just like me and we have the same sense of humor, so it’s a relief to have her around. She stares at Finn, a guy on the football team, for so long that she hits her face off someone’s locker door. We both fall on the floor from laughter.

Rose picks at her pizza during lunch. “Our history teacher, Mister Dameron, is out. The sub is okay.” She shrugs, furtively eyeing Finn sitting with his friends. “His wife Jessika disappeared a week ago.”

 “Disappeared?” I echo. “That’s creepy.”

 “Yup. Out for a jog and—” Rose snaps her fingers, jangling her bracelets. “Gone.”

That’s scary as hell. I text Ben to ask why he didn’t tell me about a woman disappearing, since that seems like vital information. He answers a second later to tell me I shouldn’t be texting at school. I tell him to write his stupid fucking book and quit worrying about what I’m doing.

  _Spoiled, just like your mother._

I roll my eyes and text back. _I’m going to hang out with my friend after school. She has a car so she’ll drop me off later tonight._

Ben doesn’t answer for a long time. I keep checking all day until he finally sends _OK_ right before school lets out. I frown. What is he, mad?

Rose and I chat about college and what we want to do after high school during the short drive to her house. She has neighbors, unlike Ben, and an older sister named Paige. Paige slaps Rose’s butt on her way out the door, laughing and dodging when Rose tries to slap her back. I smile. I wish I had a sister.

We go upstairs to her bedroom, all decked out with posters of planes and some bands, and take out our math homework. Her dad brings up chips and dip and asks me a bunch of questions about Maine, but politely avoids my parents. Her mom is off on a business trip in London.

I keep smiling while we do our homework. It’s nice to be in a normal home again. Ben is great—he’s generous and funny and sweet—but I like being in a regular nuclear family again. I hope Rose won’t mind me coming over like every day to bask in her normal, happy life.

Rose brings me home around nine. She jokes that our driveway looks like it’s from _The Shining_ and I can’t help but agree. Ben has a creepy aesthetic.

The lights are on upstairs. I thank Rose for the ride and she offers to pick me up in the morning, which I jump on. I wave as she drives off and hop up the stairs to the front door. Ben hasn’t texted me all night so I hope he’s not mad if I have a curfew or something. Mom always told me to be home by ten.

I’m met with a sight that fills me with a myriad of strange emotions.

Ben is lying on top of a blonde woman on the couch, pale chest bare and black hair drawn in a bun. Her long legs curl around his hips, holding him in place between her tan thighs. They’re kissing—slow and tender, like they’re both invested in the act—and Ben has red scratches on his muscular shoulders. I stand at the door and stare. They’re not having sex yet, but they’re pretty damn close.

The woman blinks and tilts her head to look back at me. Ben moves on to sucking on her throat, flexing his hips, and she whispers ‘someone’s here!’ while he goes at it. Two empty wine glasses rest on the coffee table, along with a packed bowl. The gross reek of marijuana hangs in the air.

He mutters and his hazy dark eyes wander to mine. Ben grasps the woman’s jaw, guiding her chin down, and whispers in her ear. His gaze stays locked on me frozen in shock at the front door.

He leans back to let the woman get up. She adjusts her dress and scurried upstairs without offering me a second glance. Ben keeps staring and smiles as he gets up, swiping a tumbler off the floor filled with amber liquid. He tosses it back and drops the tumbler clumsily on the coffee table, then picks up the bowl.

He’s in gray, low-hanging sweatpants with no shirt on. I settle my gaze on his collarbone as he saunters up to me, lighting the bowl to take a hit. Ben stops a foot in front of me and turns his head a bit to exhale a silvery cloud of smoke. He reaches past me to shut the front door, casually edging me up against it.

 “You’re home early,” he whispers. “How was your play date?” He laughs and leans closer to my ear. “Mine’s going well.”

 “You are drunk as hell.” I try to laugh and slip away from the door. “Have fun—use a condom!”

Ben grabs my wrist and drags me back, flinging me into the door. He slams a palm next to my head and I scowl up at him. A pleased smile plays on his lips.

 “Any boys?” he slurs. He takes a step closer and smells my hair.

 “No!” I snap.

 “M’kay. Good.” He comes closer, nuzzling the side of my head. “Poe Dameron likes good girls, Rey. Could ask your mother all about _that._ ”

I push Ben back a foot, frowning. “Wait… do you mean Mister Dameron? He knew mom?”

Ben gets a queer look in his face, somewhere between rage and mirth. He nods and laughs as he lights the bowl again and takes a hit. When he offers it to me, I hesitantly do the same. It burns my lungs and I cough and splutter.

 “Go to bed,” Ben mumbles, patting my upper arm. “Put on headphones or somethin’ because I am…” He exhales and flexes his hands. “Pent-up.”

I scowl and gag, partly from his words and partly from the weed. He grins and gives me a sloppy forehead kiss before lumbering his way upstairs to his flavor of the week.

Mom knew Mr. Dameron and he’s ten years older than she was… Now Poe’s wife went missing a handful of days after the car accident that took my parents. I frown at the staircase and hear Ben drunkenly singing to himself. Coincidences, maybe. My Uncle Ben is strange, but not a killer. Maybe my mom and Mr. Dameron…?

I retch. “Ugh—disgusting.”

Nah. Mom met dad in high school. I know my dad is my dad. I mean… I look like dad.

I’m too wound up to sleep. I fix a snack in the kitchen and watch _28 Days Later_ to distract my brain from the loud sounds upstairs. I’m getting frustrated by them and jump up to demand Ben cut it out.

Then I realize the sounds are coming from the basement.

I wander closer and try the handle, but it won’t turn. When I press my ear to the door I can only hear scraping, which could be a raccoon or a squirrel. I lean back and stare at the door with a frown.

There’s something going on. Beyond Ben being a weird alcoholic, and Poe’s wife disappearing, and Poe’s history with mom. A thread ties them together and I think I can see it, but I don’t want to. I step back from the door and pivot on my heel to run upstairs.

My parents have only been dead for a little over a week. I just want some time to mourn.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lil reylux sorry

Ben and his flavor of the week are still in bed when I leave for school in the morning.

Rose picks me up like she promised and I sneak out so he and I don’t have an awkward conversation. I’m not about to tell Rose about my uncle’s one night stand, so I make up a story about him being up all night writing. He’s good at it. Makes a lot of money. Guess there’s nothing else to do in the middle of the woods but write mystery novels.

School is better the second day. Rose introduces me to more people and I’m obnoxious enough to trot up to Finn and ask if he’s dating anyone. He laughs and says no and invites Rose and me over to a party. Rose freaks out, squealing with excitement, and I’m excited, too. A party—eek!

I text Ben at lunch and let him know I’ll be out late. He answers immediately.

  _It’s a school night. You need to come home._

  _And catch you humping some girl again?_ I hesitate, but send the text.

Ben responds in a minute. _I’m not kidding, Rey. You’re not staying out all night again._

It makes me mad, so I ignore him. Rose helps me get my stuff together at the end of the day and we head out in her car to get ready for the party. Lots of people are going; even a few college kids. I want to fit in so whatever. Ben can’t stop me.

All night? I was out until nine and came home to find him rubbing up on some girl. I redden at the memory, struggling to focus in history. Jerk. He says one thing and does the opposite. I’m not going to walk in on him drunk and messing with a random woman again. Gross. I don’t want to see that.

Rose is a lot shorter than me, but we find a dress that comes down to my thighs for the party. We take pictures before we head out around eight, sneaking past her mom dozing on the couch. Finn picks us up down the block with the music blaring.

 “Hey!” he crows as Rose slides in the passenger seat. “So glad you guys are coming!”

I slip in the back with a tall red-headed guy named Armitage Hux. He’s in college. He smiles at me and we shake hands. He’s lanky and tall with a gray sweater and jeans. Nice.

 “Rey,” I say.

 “I know.” Hux smiles. “Finn told me. You just moved here from Maine?”

We chat about that during the ride to Finn’s house. He talks to Rose and I’m happy to hear them laughing and having fun. The sky opens up when we arrive at the house and we hurry inside before the downpour starts.

It’s a mansion—I’ve never seen anything like it. Finn drifts off with Rose amid the squirming bodies drinking and dancing, and Hux takes my wrist. I blush as he leads me through the crowd to a table with drinks and he pours me a red cup full of spiked punch. I shouldn’t do this. I can’t do this. Mom and dad would be so disappointed.

Hux smiles down at me. “Loud, isn’t it?”

 “Uh… yeah,” I call over the din. “Can we go somewhere quiet?”

He shrugs and leads me up a curling staircase. There’s less people, but it’s still packed. We wander down the hall to a room and find a handful of people playing a game on a Switch. They’re drunk and the room reeks of weed, but it’s better than the crowd downstairs. Hux leads me inside and we play for a bit.

I feel awesome. I belong here, laughing with some gorgeous college guy, drinking spiked punch. Hux is respectful about touching me, even as the booze flows, and we play games for what feels like hours. Rose pops up with Finn and he has an arm around her waist. I gag sarcastically when they make out.

Ben texts me a bunch before he finally calls around one in the morning. I roll my eyes and shush my friends when I pick up with a sarcastic ‘yellow?’

 “Where the fuck are you?!” he demands.

 “Out,” I slur, slumping on Hux’s shoulder.

 “Tell me where you are right now, Rey. Are you drunk? Who are you with?”

Hux smiles down at me and kisses the top of my head. He’s drunk, too. I’m getting dumber and hornier and I want to shove him in a closet and fool around. I’m sixteen though—he’s like twenty. He’s already been pretty hands off.

 “My friends!” I snap at Ben. “I’ll be home tomorrow… ish… Goin’ home with my pal Armie.”

Ben grits his teeth so hard that I hear it through the phone. “I’m calling the cops, and you’re grounded for a month.”

 “FINE!”

I hang up furiously and almost chuck my phone. Hux laughs and stops me, catching me around the waist when I almost fall over. Rose shrieks and we fall all over each other laughing and stumbling. Finn gathers her back to his chest and they wander off again together, leaving me alone with Hux.

I grab the front of his shirt and arch on my tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. Hux grunts in surprise, then wraps his arms around me and kisses me back. My head spins as we deepen the kiss, and I taste the beer he’s been drinking and smell his cologne. Our bodies press together for a minute before he groans and pulls away from me.

 “I can’t,” Hux mutters. “You’re way too young.”

 “But… no I’m not! I can drive and stuff!”

He scratches his beard, smiling wryly. “I know, Rey—but I’m too old for you. Let’s sober up and I’ll bring you home.”

Disappointed doesn’t even begin to cover it. I try not to cry as I follow Hux downstairs to the heart of the party, where everyone is either passed out or already left. He sits me down on the couch with a bottle of water and walks away to find Finn and Rose. I’m miserable. I can’t stand rejection.

Hux saunters back after a few minutes, running a hand through his red hair, and sits down next to me on the couch. He huffs and rubs his eyes, then wraps a lanky arm around my shoulders. I blink when I feel his thumb rubbing the edge of my collarbone in a small circle and cast a confused glance at it. When my head is turned, soft lips brush my throat.

 “Armit—?”

 “Shh,” he interrupts in a whisper. His lips move, wet and hungry. “It’s okay.”

My flesh tingles where his mouth roams and I squirm next to him, panting. Hux laughs, tracing lazy circles on my bare upper arm, and his breath tickles the hairs on the nape of my neck. He pulls me in his lap in one fluid motion and settles me there by my hips so I’m straddling him. I grasp his shirt to keep from tipping off or falling backwards.

His throat bobs and he pushes his thumbs on my hip bones. “What have you done, Rey?”

 “Um… not a lot.” I dip down to kiss him again, sloppy as ever, but eager to experiment.

Hux hums and breaks it off after a couple seconds. “Okay, you’ve been kissed before, right?” I nod and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank god. Have you, like… seen a dick?”

 “Yeah, I’ve seen a fricken dick. I’ve gone to second base.” I tug on the collar of my dress like showing him my tits is proof.

 “Christ,” he mutters, “you’re jailbait; you know that?” Hux kisses my neck again, more eager. “When do you turn seventeen? Please tell me it’s soon.”

 “Two months.”

A grunt. “Figures.”

We keep going without saying anything else. Hux rolls my skin through his teeth and I know it’s leaving hickies, but I think about Ben seeing them and getting mad and I smile. He’s going to be _so_ pissed. Everything has been so out of control since mom and dad died that I just want to sink my nails into something and bend it to my will.

I moan and shift back and forth in Hux’s lap and he pauses in kissing my neck to huff hot breaths on my skin. He squeezes my hips and goes back, biting at my jaw as my stifled sounds of pleasure gradually get louder. His hips push up into me and I feel his erection, warm and hot and insistent. My fingers make a clumsy attempt at his belt buckle.

Hux pins my wrists on his chest, shaking his head. “No,” he croaks. “Just this.”

 “But—”

 “You’ll thank me when you’re sober.”

I’m beginning to get there, but I’m so turned on that I kind of don’t give a shit. I lean on his chest, burying my face in his neck, and he kisses my neck a couple more times before I climax. I’ve come before—did it all the time in my bed at home—but this is different. I moan into his shoulder, biting down, and buck my hips as it ripples through me. Hux grabs my ass with both hands and swears, but manages to keep his voice down to harsh panting and grunts.

We slump together after we’re done. His chest heaves under my ear and he groans, rubbing my back as he tries to catch his breath. I’m exhausted. I lie there for another minute, yawning, and then I’m fast asleep.

 “Rey? Rey?”

Hazy blue light and a groggy voice wake me. I open my eyes to find I’m slouched in the back of Finn’s car being watched by him and Rose. They look exhausted and I figure it must four or five in the morning. The car is running outside Ben’s house and they both panic when the front door opens.

Rose practically shoves me out of the car and takes off with Finn. I clutch my pounding head and stumble my way to the stairs, where Ben grabs my wrist and drags me inside the house. I stumble after him, but we don’t shut the door. Ben looks like he’s ready to kill me and his dark eyes are tight.

He seizes my upper arms and gives me a violent shake. “Are you fucking serious?! What the _fuck,_ Rey?!”

I’m jostled and nauseated by the shaking and grab the front of his dress shirt to keep from falling over. He smells like whiskey—of course he’s been drinking. I squeal as he kicks the door shut and shoves me into it. Ben slams me against it, almost hitting my head, and I burst into tears.

 “I’m so FUCKING angry!” he shouts. “I’ve been up all goddamn night and you stumble in still drunk and covered in hickies!” He grabs my jaw, furious. “Who did this to you?! Hm?! _Tell me!_ ”

I paw at his chest, drunk and hysterical, and Ben trembles from anger. He starts to throw me on the floor, then kind of relents and drops me there. I roll on my stomach and cry as he storms off for the basement without another word. He stops with his door on the handle, breathing hard enough to heave his broad shoulders, then suddenly hurls a vase across the room. It shatters near the television with a horrible shrill sound, raining blue and green on the dark hardwood floor.

Anger blooms in my chest. I manage to get on my hands and knees and scream at Ben, clenching my hands into fists.

 “I’m not scared of you!” I shriek. My knuckles hurt from curling on the wood. “You don’t own me!”

Ben raises his eyebrows and laughs, hands on his hips. “You’re a sixteen year old child—I _do_ own you.”

I scramble to my feet and throw a pillow at his face. He catches it with another laugh, mocking me now, and I keep grabbing and throwing stuff. Ben comes closer, following me while I chuck pillows and blankets, and snags me around the waist on the other side of the couch.

Screaming, I flail my legs and claw at his forearms. He drops me over the edge of the couch arm and tries to wrestle my wrists down, but I squirm away. I crawl across the cushions and Ben pins me on my back, kneeling between my thighs, hands above my head. I sob again and weakly push my heels into the cushions.

He rolls his eyes. “You can’t just cry whenever you don’t get your way. I’m not falling for it.”

 “You can’t tell me what to do!” I blubber. “You’re not my father!”

 “No, I’m not, but you’re stuck with me until you’re eighteen.” Ben watches me squirm for a minute. He licks his lips. “I’ve been up all fucking night, Rey. I’ve never been so…” He grits his teeth. “Who did this?”

I twist my wrists in his hard grip. My throat has to be a mess of purple and red. I’m glad he’s angry. I want someone to be pissed off instead of feeling bad for me all the time.

My heart patters. “My boyfriend.”

Ben scowls and tightens his hold. “You’ve been in school for two days. You already have a boyfriend?” His scowl deepens when I nod. “What’s his name?”

I press my lips together and refuse to respond. He searches my eyes, hoping his intimidating glare will work, but I refuse to give up the ghost. Ben hovers above me anyway and I smile up at him.

He leans closer. “What did you let him do to you?”

The memory of Hux holding me in his lap makes me rub my thighs together. I huff and look away from Ben’s dark eyes, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. Gross. I’m not telling him anything. I can do whatever I want and he can’t stop me. He can try, yeah—but I’ll meet up with Hux in his car or apartment or whatever and make out with him whenever I want.

I can’t help but giggle. Ben raises his eyebrows and smiles, tilting his head to catch my eye. He grabs my jaw and squeezes, still smiling.

 “What did he do?” Ben whispers. “Hm? What’s so funny? Did it feel good?”

I laugh, grasping his wrist with both hands. I’m still drunk and have little control over my mouth. “Well I had an orgasm, so… yeah, it felt good.”

A violent expression passes over Ben’s face. He shifts his jaw, trying to rein in his rage, then abruptly rises from the couch. I watch over the edge as he storms to the basement, flings the door open, and disappears within. The lock clicks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy SHIT

Ben doesn’t get me up for school in the morning. It’s just as well, because Rose texts me and says she’s too sick to drive us in. I lie in bed, trying not to puke, and moan into the pillows. Last night is a blur. I only remember fooling around with Hux and screaming at Ben when I got home. Good god.

I’ll have to face the music sooner or later. I roll out of bed and crawl to the bathroom for a shower. After that I brush the awful taste of booze from my mouth, groaning at the hickies on my neck. I look like a zombie. Even the soft lighting in the bathroom doesn’t do me any favors. Ugh… what was I _thinking?_ At least I’ll have the whole weekend to recover.

Sighing, I head downstairs in my pajamas and blue slippers. The TV is on in the living room, but I can’t find my uncle anywhere. I fix myself a bowl of cereal and eat alone at the island, rubbing my forehead. I’m never drinking again. I swear. Even when it’s legal, I’m never drinking again.

I scroll through Facebook and see a news report about a girl going missing from a few towns over. It doesn’t really interest me. Rose texts me back and forth about Finn and how he took her out for breakfast. She’s gaga—which means I’ll be the third wheel soon. I’m happy for her, though. She’s had a crush on him for—

The front door opens. I hop off my stool and peer into the foyer, where Ben is hanging up his jacket. His dark eyes are sunken and tired and his blue dress shirt is askew. He glances at me, but doesn’t smile. Looks like he had a busy morning.

 “Hi,” I say meekly.

He grunts. I roll my eyes and fold my arms over my chest. Okay, fine; I’ll be the adult here.

 “I’m sorry about last night. It was irresponsible and disrespectful.” I chew my lower lip, huffing. “And I’m sorry I screamed at you.”

Ben steps out of shiny black dress shoes, raising an eyebrow. “A teenager who knows how to apologize? Color me surprised.” He nudges the shoes away from the door and heads upstairs. “You’re still grounded.”

 “I know!” I call in a snippy tone.

I don’t remember _what_ I said, but I do remember raising my voice. The apology is done, so whatever. I sit on the couch and find a text from Hux that says ‘ _this is stupid, but i want to see you again_.’ I text Rose a screenshot with a bunch of emojis before I answer Hux, asking when and where. He wasn’t just using me—he actually likes me!

I’ve had boyfriends before, but we’ve only ever gone to the movies and bowling alleys. Mom would wait outside for me to get home. She obviously had some hang ups about her teenage daughter being alone with boys. I have more sense than that.

 “Who are you texting?”

Ben is at the bottom of the stairs, changed into jeans and a plaid red shirt. I delete the messages from Hux and shrug as my uncle ambles over to investigate. He smells like… bleach? Maybe chlorine.

 “No one,” I lie. “Rose.”

 “That sounds like someone.” He sits next to me, warm thigh touching mine, and yawns. “I had to go pick up some meds. You were dead asleep when I left. Eat breakfast?”

I glance at his leg right beside mine and shrug. Ben stretches his arms over the back of the couch and lets his knees hang open, taking up most of the space. Mine are pressed together and my phone rests in my lap. He’s warm, and he really does smell like bleach.

I clear my throat, averting my eyes to the TV. “Yeah, I ate. I’m not totally helpless. You reek of bleach, by the way—hiding a dead body?”

 “I _am_ a serial killer,” Ben drawls without missing a beat.

We sit in silence and watch TV for a long time. I text back and forth with Rose and Hux messages me to ask some more questions. Ben leans his head on the back of the couch and groans when we get to the third episode of _Friends._ I barely glance at him, too busy telling Hux about my favorite animal and favorite color. Platypus and green. Easy.

Ben leans over to read my screen. “How old is this kid? Seventeen?”

I lean away, blushing. “He’s in college.”

 “College? What does he want with a sixteen year old?”

Ugh. I roll my eyes and ignore the question. Ben changes the channel to a basketball game and before I know it, we’ve been on the couch until two in the afternoon. I’m still flirting with Hux and he’s starting to veer into dirty talk about last night. I giggle at one of the texts about how cute I sounded when I came.

Fingertips brush my upper arm. I shiver and hesitate in the middle of replying to Hux, casting a glance toward Ben. He’s on his phone answering an email. His middle two fingers stroke my bare skin absentmindedly. I cough.

 “What’s for lunch?” I ask, trying to subtly move away from his touch.

 “We can make pizza if you want.” His dark eyes flicker to the television and he smiles. “You know what—why don’t you invite your new boyfriend over? Since he was polite enough to cover my niece in hickies.”

 “Yeah right. We _just_ met; I don’t want him running away yet.”

Ben squeezes my shoulder, raising his eyebrows. “I do.”

I laugh, but hesitantly invite Hux over for dinner. He agrees, hopeful that he can smooth the waters over with my uncle. I go upstairs to change and Ben follows with his hands in his pockets, casually swinging into my bedroom. He leans on the wall.

 “He’s nice,” I insist, bustling around to find a skirt and blouse. “I mean, he tried to push me off.”

 “I bet he did. He can go to jail.” Ben folds his arms over his broad chest. “Well, he’ll have to go a bit further for me to pursue that course of action.”

 “Don’t you have a book to write?”

Ben grins. “Not right this second. Publishers give me time. I’m much more concerned about my teenage niece hooking up with a college kid.”

I redden and set out my outfit on the bed. “We haven’t… done that.”

 “Oh. Neat.”

He leaves me to change in private. When I go downstairs he’s already at the stove cooking and peeks over his shoulder at me. He has his hair back in a bun again and looks… uh… kind of good. I try to hide my ears before they turn red and give away my weird thoughts.

Ben gestures for me to join him. I wander up to the counter and smile when I see the ingredients for ratatouille. Our favorite.

 “You know how to make it?” Ben asks, smiling down at me.

 “Nope. My parents didn’t cook much.”

 “Ah.” He costs a pan in oil. “Your mother was a lazy ass, but your father had no excuse. Want to cut up the peppers and squash?”

I do, slicing them into thin circles like Ben wants. He can dice much faster than I can and ends up taking over while I watch, mesmerized. He can cook—who’d have thunk it? I try to make myself useful setting the table and fetching drinks. The radio plays some soft Sinatra song and the TV echos with sitcom laughter.

Ben pops the dish in the oven and washes his hands after the timer is set. I’m at the island on my phone when he hooks his fingers around my small hand and gently tugs. I look up into his dark eyes.

 “Dance with me,” he murmurs, smiling.

I laugh. “I don’t know how.”

 “That’s okay. You’ll need the experience for your new boytoy.”

He pulls again and I slip off my stool. Ben sets my phone on the island and sweeps me in a semi circle. He slips one arm around my waist and places mine up on his shoulder. Our fingers knit together with the other hand and I smile weakly at his intense stare. He’s just _so_ fucking tall. I feel like he might bear down and kiss me but I shoo the thoughts away.

We slowly sway across the kitchen, quiet. Ben raises an eyebrow and smirks.

 “You haven’t even stepped on my feet yet.” He twirls me around, taking my breath. “You can rest your head on my chest if you don’t want to keep staring at me.”

 “Psh. I’m just keeping an eye on you in case Armie walks in.”

Ben smells nice. The reek of bleach has gone away and I pick up his aftershave and cologne. It’s vague, but reminds me of home. He nudges the side of my head with his cheek to make me rest my head on him and keeps his cheek in that spot. My heart patters. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

He sighs. “This is nice. Makes me think of Kira.”

I nod, swallowing hard. Duh. He misses his sister. Ben nuzzles my hair and heaves another sigh into it, and I figure he’s thinking of mom. I close my eyes and lean into him, wishing I could feel some part of dad in him. I miss them so much. I just want them back.

The doorbell rings. I start nervously and skitter away from my uncle to the front door, eager to put distance between us. Okay. I’m fine. I’m not in the least bit attracted to my uncle.

Hux stands outside in a gray sweater and dark blue jeans. He trimmed his beard and combed his orange hair. I beam and invite him in, but he leans down to kiss me first. He brushes his fingertips across the small of my back on his way inside and I shiver, but not the same way I did with Ben.

 “Oh shit,” Hux laughs, “your neck is a mess.”

I hastily try to cover up. “I’m so sorry—I just don’t have enough make up.”

Before he can answer, Ben sweeps into the room. He shakes Armie’s hand, smiling tightly, and asks for his ID. I roll my eyes until Hux offers it and Ben laughs.

 “You’re twenty-two?” Ben clarifies.

 “Twenty- _two_?!” I echo. “You said twenty!”

Armie shrugs sheepishly. “What’s the difference?”

Ugh. It makes me mad, but I know Ben just wants him to go away. I roll my eyes and wave Hux towards the kitchen while my uncle hovers close behind. He sets the ID down on the island, where I notice he moved all the cutlery. Keeping it casual.

Hux nudges me with his elbow. “I’m so sorry, Rey. You’re just—I really like you.”

I ignore him. Ben takes the ratatouille out of the oven and serves the three of us, with him sitting on my other side. It’s even better than the restaurant’s and I wolf mine down before Hux touches half of his. He picks around, avoiding the squash. Who doesn’t want the squash? Everything works so well together. It tastes like home and comfort.

Ben glances at Hux. “Any particular reason you like hanging around high school kids?”

He gags on his bite, shaking his head. “I—no—Finn is a friend from childhood—”

 “Rey is sixteen,” Ben interrupts. He eats his last bite of ratatouille, casting a bored look to Hux. “You know she’s sixteen. Do you usually pursue children?”

I whirl around, smiling stiffly. “Hey, Armie, want a tour of the house? It’s not that great, but… I’ll show you around and _Ben_ —” I shoot him a pointed glare “—can stay here.”

Hux jumps at the opportunity. I have another forkful of ratatouille before following after my new boyfriend. Ben doesn’t turn and watch us go.

We walk down the hallway to each bedroom and end at mine. Armie peers inside and looks around at my décor with his green eyes. He shuts the door behind us when I’m inside and kisses me once on the lips, then grabs me around the waist when I kiss him back. His mouth tastes like tomato and zucchini.

The two of us back up towards my bed and I eagerly pull him on top of me. We shush each other and laugh when the bed creaks and he grabs my hip to move me into a better position. I tug on his sweater. I’m kissing Armie, but I see flickers of Ben.

 “We should go to my apartment,” Hux whispers. “You can sleep over. We can order pizza, have a few drinks…”

I hitch my calves around his hips. “I just have to ditch Ben. He’s being so weird.”

 “Nah. You’re his niece. He’s doing what he should.” Armie groans and kisses down my jaw. “Fuck, you’re so hot. You going to school around here? Engineering, right?”

His hips roll against mine and I can only nod. Hux breathes hard on my neck and hardly moves to keep from making the bed creak. I keep waiting for Ben to bust in and yell at us but he never does. We fool around until we both have an orgasm the same way from last night, me moaning and Hux grunting. It feels just as good, but I feel… gross.

We get up and rearrange ourselves. Armie kisses my forehead and tells me I’m hot. I manage a smile as we walk downstairs to see Ben.

My uncle is sitting on the couch watching _Survivor_ with a glass of wine. He waves vaguely when Hux says goodbye and I sneak a kiss at the door. I watch him drive off and sigh. He so likes me, but I’m still unsettled. What we’re doing is wrong.

 “What were you two doing upstairs, Rey?”

I turn a little to look at the back of Ben’s head. He doesn’t turn, just sips his red wine.

I aim for indifference. “Nothing. Looked at my room.”

 “I heard the bed creaking.”

The dark room feels small and tight. I’m so embarrassed. I curl my arms around my ribs and try to babble our another excuse.

Ben glances at me over his shoulder with a smug, knowing smile. He takes another sip of wine, then rises to his feet with his gaze on the TV. The soft sound of Sinatra still floats through the apartment as he saunters up to me and polishes off the last mouthful of wine. He puts a hand in his pocket.

 “What?” he murmurs. “Embarrassed?”

I press against the door. “N-No. We were just looking around. Maybe we sat down.”

Ben raises his eyebrows, dangling the glass in his fingertips. “Pretty rhythmic for just sitting down.”

 “…We stood up a lot.”

 “Ah.” He reaches past me to turn the deadbolt. He’s leaning in my face, breath on my forehead. “Did you enjoy sitting and standing?”

Holy shit. I stare blankly at his collarbone and just manage to nod once. Ben hums and lets his fingertips brush my hip as it returns to his side. He knows what we didn’t. He could hear me whimpering and Hux groaning and he knows we were messing around. I could die.

Ben kisses my cheek chastely. “Goodnight, Rey. Be safe.”

Then he leaves me by the front door and I don’t know what to do or say. Holy shit.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it  
> BEGIIIIIIINS  
> also y'all can thank karrow for this because i was about to delete this fic lolol
> 
> smut ahead w/slight daddy kink

My new friends Rose and Finn think dumping me in my uncle’s driveway was hilarious. I’m not in a position to be friendless, so I just roll my eyes and grudgingly agree with them. Jerks. They apologize around lunch time and ask me about Armitage and what my ‘intentions’ are with him.

 “Ben insisted on him coming over,” I say between bites of pizza. “Weirdly, he still likes me.”

Rose raises her eyebrows and giggles when Finn nibbles her ear. Ugh. She swats him away and he leans back, smiling at her while talking to me.

 “He’s a nice guy,” Finn says with a shrug. “He thinks you’re cool, Rey.”

 “Great,” I mutter.

It’s an otherwise boring day at school. Rose dating Finn brings us in to a new social circle that parties a lot, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. They invite me out the upcoming weekend and I smile and shrug. Ben won’t be happy if I come home wasted again.

Rose drops me off home after school. I wave goodbye before heading up the rest of the gravel driveway to the porch, where Ben is sitting out on a chair. I take each step heavily and frown when I see he has a blunt between his fingertips. He raises his eyebrows and clicks a button of his laptop to turn the screen black.

I appraise his outfit: grey sweatpants and a green Yellowstone T-shirt, black hair in a ponytail. He takes a drag from the blunt and nods towards me.

 “How was school?” he asks.

 “Fine.” I fold my arms and cock my head. “How’s your _weed_ treating you?”

Ben smiles long and slow. “Pretty damn good.” He exhales a trail of silvery smoke and closes his eyes. “There’s lasagna in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

I am—but I’m always hungry. I give my uncle a thumbs up and head inside to chow down.

It’s been awkward as hell since he heard Armie and I fooling around. I want to go see his apartment tonight, but I’m a little worried about Ben’s reaction. I don’t know why. Why do I even care? So what; I’m a teenager and that’s the kind of stuff teenagers do.

But I feel guilty while I eat my tepid lasagna five minutes later. Again: I’m not sure why. It feels like… I’m betraying Ben somehow.

He strolls inside with his laptop when I sit in the couch to watch TV. I’m texting Armie about hanging out Thursday instead of tonight, just to give Ben a few days to get over their first meeting. He agrees, but asks if I can send him nudes. I stare at the text and chew the inside of my cheek. Probably not a good idea… but I want him to like me, so…

My phone is plucked out of my hand before I can blink. Ben turns away with it, already nursing a tumbler of scotch, and holds it up high where I can’t reach it. I dance around him, hopping to snatch it back, red in the face.

 “Give it back!” I demand.

Ben groans. “Please don’t tell me you’re sending him naked pictures. That’s child porn, y’know.”

 “I am _not_ a child!”

 “I feel like we’ve been over this.” He turns his back, blocking me again. “Oh, right; you were loaded when we went over this. You’re a child until the end of next year, kid.”

Furious, I grab Ben’s other arm and bite. He grunts in surprise and I steal my phone while he’s stunned, but he seizes my wrist before I can run off. We fall over the arm rest of the couch in an messy pile of flailing limbs with Ben on top of me. It creaks and slides a few inches across the floor.

I squeal and laugh, twisting my arms behind my back to hide my phone. “Stop! Stop!”

Ben kneels between my thighs in the dark living room and tickles up my ribs, running his fingers under my shirt. I shriek and squirm as he leans his heavy weight on top of me to keep me pinned. His warm, boozy breath tickles my scalp.

 “Where are you goin’, huh?” he teases in a whisper. I try to yank his shirt and he wrestles both wrists into one of his big hands, restraining them above my head. “No, no—none of that. Be good for you new daddy.”

I can see over his shoulder out the window. The sun has set, shrouding us and the surrounding forest in inky blackness, but the TV flickers with some old sitcom rerun. Ben pants in my ear as he reaches a hand under my lower back. I watch his hips shift between my legs and feel warm hardness. My cheeks flush with heat.

 “You’re not my daddy,” I mumble into his shoulder. I wriggle again—just to get comfortable, or so I tell myself. My jeans rub on my clit, but I also feel a throb from Ben’s…

He laughs, slipping my phone free. “No?” I shake my head and he reaches past me to put the phone on the end table. “Why not?”

The motion of stretching forward rubs us together again. I bite my lower lip and shrug to Ben’s question as little tingles of pleasure ricochet through me. My heels dig into the couch pillows and I push my hips up a bit to feel his erection again, hard and insistent through his sweatpants. It makes my heart skip a beat. Is he… turned on?

I clear my throat, but my voice cracks. “He never took my phone.”

 “Is that why you’re such a brat?”

 “I am _not_ a brat. Jerk.” Annoyed, I huff and twist my wrists. “I have shit to do; let go!”

Ben laughs. “Like send nudes to your asshole boyfriend?” He seizes my jaw to make me look into his dark eyes, no longer smiling. “Do not send him any pictures like that, Rey. He’ll use them to blackmail you.”

My arms slacken a bit. Oh… true. I’ve read about that revenge porn stuff, and I still don’t know Armitage that well. I roll my eyes anyway and stiffen when Ben reaches past me for my phone again. He lets my wrists go so he has both hands free and I writhe underneath him, twisting my head to see what he’s doing.

He has my texts open and he’s messaging Armie, of fucking course. I shriek and kick my legs while he types out something to the effect of ‘this is Rey’s uncle—I’ll kill you if you ask her to take naked pictures again.’ I’m so mad that I twist over on my stomach and get my hands to the armrest.  Ben wraps an arm around my belly and drags me back underneath him.

 “Also,” he drawls while typing one-handed, “stop humping my niece. Thanks, Archie.”

 “He—!” I splutter. “We weren’t—!”

Ben chucks my phone across the room (thank god for Otter Boxes) and clasps his hands over the top of mine. He clicks his tongue and rolls his hips into a comfortable spot against my butt. I’m glad he can’t see my face, because my eyes bug when I _definitely_ feel his hard-on.

 “I knew exactly what you were doing, Rey,” he murmurs in my ear. “I know how you feel, too. College guy paying attention to you? Seems cool, doesn’t he?”

I clench my hands, tightening my fingers knitted through Ben’s. Yes. How does he know? I give a tentative nod and he sighs. Oh, duh—mom. But mom and dad were the same age, so…? Unless he means Poe Dameron, who mom apparently had a fling with. Armie isn’t _that_ old.

 “Yeah, they always seem that way at first,” Ben continues. “He’ll invite you to his place, get you drunk… birds and the bees applies here.”

 “Well, I’m not doing that with him.” I stare at my hands covered by Ben’s and push into his groin. “And I’m not ten. I know what sex is, dingus; quit saying ‘birds and the bees.’”

Ben laughs and returns the push against my butt. “Oh, okay. He’s going to fuck you and you’re not going to enjoy it. He’s just working up to it by rubbing up on you so you’re not scared off. Better?”

I squeeze his fingers and shove hard into his hips, pissed off by his response. My uncle growls and grabs my hip, digging his fingertips into my jeans, and the warm pressure of his cock presses on my ass again. My heart pounds as I circle my hips in place, now outright teasing him instead of fooling around. I just want to know if I’m crazy. That’s all.

Yeah, I can definitely feel it. Ben stills as I roll my hips again, twisting and arching my spine to rub his entire length. I breathe into the couch cushions as laughter floats from the sitcom playing a few feet away. What the fuck am I doing?

Ben curls his long fingers around my hip to help me. His thumb rubs mine. He’s helping. He’s _helping._ It makes my skin tingle with pleasure.

 “You have homework to do?” he whispers. His hand curls under my hip to my fly. “What homework do you have? Do you need help?”

I nod shyly, heart pounding. “Um—math and history. Armie wanted me to come over.”

Ben works open my jeans and tugs them over the arch of my butt. Off my ankles they go and to the floor, then he leans across my back again and traces the tip of his nose through my hair. He’s huge. And heavy. Now I can _really_ feel the press of his cock and I’m run through with shame.

 “Yeah?” Ben muses. He dips his hand between my legs and I shiver at the brush of his fingertips on my pussy. “Tell him your new daddy says: ‘over my dead body.’”

The pad of his middle finger runs a teasing line down my slit through the fabric of my panties. I whimper, bucking my hips for more, but Ben keeps up what he’s doing. So I circle into his groin to feel his length and rub the warmth near my entrance. When I find a good spot, I wriggle my hips.

 “You’re not my daddy,” I repeat.

 “No? Still Uncle Ben?” He strokes along my slit, languid. “I think I want you to call me daddy and ask nicely if you can go see your boyfriend.”

I bury my face in the cushion to hide my blush. “No.”

Ben leans on his side so we’re facing the television and I can see his middle finger running along my blue underwear. His other arm angles under my head and he kisses my temple.

 “Then you’re going to stay right here and watch shows with daddy,” he coos. He circles my clit and I curl my toes, biting hard on my lower lip. “We can play until you learn some manners.”

 _Play._ Oh my god. I’m torn between being super turned on and kind of wanting to barf. But the two emotions twist together into deep, sick shame, and I’m instantly hooked on it. It burns along my scalp and in my head and I like it. This is my _uncle._ We’re blood related. But it feels good.

I swallow, mouth dry. “What do you mean ‘play’?”

Ben kisses my hair slowly and teases my clit with his fingertip. He’s not in any rush. “Exactly what we’re doing.” He shifts his hips, reminding me of his boner. “Or more.”

My phone rings. I snap out of my crazed state and turn my head a bit to look at it, but Ben reaches his arm up and picks it up. He hands it to me and I stiffen when I see ‘Armie’ glaring back at me.

Ben kisses my cheek. “Answer it, Rey. Don’t be rude.” He laughs lightly as he repositions his arm under my head like he thinks he’s hilarious.

 “I’m not answering!” I snap. “Not—not right now.”

 “Aww… Why not?” He draws his hand away and I hear sucking. “Afraid he’ll hear me?” His middle finger slides down the front of my panties through my folds, wet and thick. I grab the top of Ben’s hand and whimper. “Or afraid he’ll hear you?”

 “Uncle Ben—” My eyelids flutter when his finger roams through my soft flesh and I squeeze his hand. “What are you doing?!”

His fingertip spreads me open as he strokes up to my clit and I part my thighs. My legs writhe when I feel his knuckle flex under my palm, now right where I want him. _Fuck_ yes. It’s like screwing around with Armie but ten times more intense. Prickly pleasure tightens inside my stomach

Ben holds me firm when I squirm, which rubs my ass on his cock. He takes a couple sharp breaths and answers in a mockery of my own voice.

 “Uncle Ben!” he gasps in my ear. “Are you playing with my _pussy_ , Uncle Ben?! I’ve never ever done such a naughty thing!” He doesn’t bother hiding it as he thrusts against my butt. “Haven’t you ever humped one of your pillows? Bit down on your knuckles so no one heard you come?”

My ears tingle with heat. Jesus Christ. I nod a little bit and Ben covers my mouth with his hand, squeezing to make sure I can’t be heard. He shifts his weight so he’s lying half on top of me and nudges his knee between my thighs to spread them. I’m pinned there, one hand on his bringing me closer to coming and the other clenching the couch cushion.

Rain dances on the windows with a sudden downpour. I glance toward it, distracted, and Ben murmurs and kisses my neck as he gently guides me back. The couch creaks every once in a while and I moan into his palm, shameless in my own thrusts against his fingertips. I guide them where I want them and Ben knits our fingers together.

 “Do you still want to see your boyfriend?” he whispers, breath chilling a wet kiss on my throat. I shake my head, panting frantically into his warm palm. “I didn’t think so.” Lips brush my neck. “I’ll kill him if he touches you again.”

Ben’s voice makes my heart skip a beat, but I figure it’s uncle-talk. I keep working our fingers and thinking about how close his cock is to being inside me and a few minutes later, I climax with a muffled cry into his palm. It’s so intense that I come close to screaming and Ben pushes his middle finger inside me to feel the contractions.

 “—Fuck!” he spits. He thrusts while they peter out and I stop writhing. “ _Fuck;_ that’s good.”

I’m dimly aware of my uncle’s finger buried inside me, soaked in my juices, but I’m too tired to care. Ben sucks his finger again and I hear him spit.

He pushes me roughly on my stomach and kneels behind me. Fabric rustles, then I pick up on the slapping sound of wet skin and realize he’s jerking off. I redden and squeal when he yanks my hips up so my ass is in the air. Ben breathes hard and pulls my panties down past my thighs. He groans.

 “Fuck yes.” His fingertip traces my lips before slowly pushing inside me, pads of his fingers pressing down so he can see better. I whine, uncomfortable from the weird angle. “How many fingers can you fit, Rey?”

 “Two,” I rasp. I haven’t spoken in a while.

Another finger worms in with the first. I feel much fuller than I do with two of my much smaller fingers, but it’s a nice sensation. He moves them slowly but his hand pumps fast on his cock. Ben takes sharp breaths and grunts.

 “Two fucking fingers,” he groans. “ _Two fucking fingers._ Such a tight pussy—” I push back and forth on his digits and he laughs like he’s in pain. “Are you fucking yourself on my fingers?”

 “…Yes,” I mumble. “Feels good.”

 “Come again.” The slapping sound stops. He puts his hand on my butt to guide me on his fingers. “Touch yourself and come again.”

I scramble to touch my clit and do what he says. Ben’s breathing slows and he whispers things more to himself than me. The pressure from his fingers seems to hit a nice spot and I drop my hand away, whimpering in surprise as the tension builds very, very fast. It clenches in my gut, stretching deep inside my cunt, and I struggle to shut myself up.

Ben yanks my hair, jerking my chin up. “Say my name. _Say it._ ”

 “Ben!” I gasp. I bury my face in the cushions, squeezing my eyes shut. “U-Uncle Ben—I’m going to—”

 “Come on my fingers?” He spits again and groans. “I’m going to come in those nice blue panties and _you’re_ going to wear them to your boyfriend’s apartment. Understood?”

I nod quickly and swear as I come undone. It feels like a vice at first that gives way to throbbing deep inside me all the way back out. My swearing gets louder and I stammer all three names while it crests; Ben, Uncle Ben, and daddy. At some point I’m screaming, but I’m not sure what.

Ben pulls my panties back up while I’m coming down. Warm wetness squirts on the small of my back and he curses, too. The head of his cock brushes my skin as he squeezes out his load mostly on my underwear, as promised. It tugs on my pulsing pussy lips.

We both try to catch our breath for a minute. I slowly regain my common sense and my eyes widen as it comes back to me. Oh god.

Ben exhales and again tugs my panties down, this time completely off my ankles. He stands and I hear him fix his sweatpants. I swallow hard, lowering my hips and curling into a ball.

 “How was the lasagna, anyway?” he asks offhandedly. He fans the blue blanket from the back of the couch over me. “I was high as hell when I made it.”

I cover my face. “It was good. I ate a big piece.”

He kisses the top of my head, the only part out of the blanket. “Good.” I catch sight of him stuffing my panties in his pocket. “You thirsty?”

 “…No.”

Ben leaves the room for a minute like nothing is out of the ordinary. I silently panic in my blanket fort until he comes back and hefts me off the couch, blanket and all. I’m too stunned to complain or make a snarky comment.

We go upstairs and down the hall to his bedroom. He nudges the door open and peels back the covers, then sets me down at the end of the bed like I’m made of porcelain. Ben unwraps me from the blanket so I’m on my back, limbs curled like a dead spider, exposed to him. He smiles.

 “Look at you. So tense.” His black hair has fallen out of its ponytail and frames his pale face. It’s either eerie or beautiful; I’m not sure which. He cups my knee and I start, nervous. His smile widens as if it pleases him. “Do you feel guilty?”

I nod once. Ben eases both of my knees down and stands between them to help me out of my shirt. He takes off my bra as well, leaving me completely naked on the blue blanket. My heart beats so hard I imagine it must be visible, like in a cartoon.

His dark eyes rake down my body, lingering on my trembling hands at my sides. Wind rattles the windows as night falls across the cabin. It’s cold.

Ben’s smile comes back as he creeps into the creaking bed with me. I crawl back toward the pillows on my elbows, watching him with wide eyes, and get the feeling that something isn’t right here. He’s silent. My breathing is not.

He prowls closer until I have nowhere to go and shrink back under his looming shadow. The windows rattle with another howling gust of wind, driving rain against the glass. He’s kneeling between my thighs, hands on either side of my head. I’m in a cage.

Dark eyes assess me. Calculating.

 “Want to know a secret?” Ben murmurs.

I nod. My palms sweat on the sheets and I clench them tight.

He lowers his weight on top of me, resting most of it on his forearms. I shudder when Ben kisses me tenderly on the lips, which deepens to making out in a couple seconds. My fingers alight on his ribs and I eagerly kiss him back. He’s good—way better than Armie, and definitely better than me. I try to keep up.

He kisses a trail down my throat. “I don’t feel guilty.”

 “…Not at all?” I clarify.

 “Nope.” Ben sucks on my neck, rolling my skin through his teeth. “I’ve already jerked off thinking about you and that soft, sweet little pussy.”

I laugh a little. “I thought about you when I was with Armie. Pretty fucked up.”

 “Mm. Not worth losing sleep over, though.”

We make out again and this time I fling my arms around Ben’s neck. He groans in my mouth and reaches down to ease a finger inside me again, stroking forward in the way that made me come _really_ hard. I spread my legs wide and end up climaxing again while he leaves hickies on my neck. I’ll blame Armie.

At some point I doze off curled up naked in Ben’s arms. Something bangs in the basement, but he kisses my forehead and I fall back asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the secks  
> also didn't realize y'all actually like this lmao

Thankfully, I’m awake before Ben.

He’s asleep on his stomach beside me, black hair strewn across his pale face, lips parted. I swallow hard and stare at him in the soft morning glow before I slip out of bed. My legs tremble as I sneak out of his bedroom and down the hall to mine.

Panic sets in during my shower. I’m desperate to scrub off the sensation of Ben’s hands all over my body and his fingers inside me. I made a horrible mistake, but so did he. I scrub and scrub and flinch at the hickies on my neck. He’s my _uncle._ We’re blood-related. He’s my mother’s brother.

I get dressed and head downstairs to text my boyfriend and friends. A haze of mist clings to the grass outside, obscuring the line of trees on the edge of Ben’s property. I pour a bowl of cereal and stare out across the field, stricken with guilt. I’m not being fair to Armie—or myself.

 “Morning.”

Ben shuffles into the kitchen, yawning and ruffling his hair. He’s not wearing a shirt and his sweatpants just barely conceal his crotch. I redden and mumble a polite greeting back. Maybe he was extra drunk last night. I won’t say anything unless he does.

He opens the fridge and clicks his tongue. “I’m pulling you out of school.”

My gaze snaps up. “Excuse me? Why?”

Ben picks out a yogurt and wanders over to the Keurig to make a cup of coffee. Red half-moon marks litter his shoulder blades.

 “Because I said so.” He turns, leaning on the counter to eat his yogurt while the Keurig heats up. “You can finish online—then I don’t have to worry about you meeting college boys.”

I scowl. “Are you serious?”

 “Sure am. They’ll just take advantage of you.”

 “Like you did last night.”

Ben stops mid-scoop in his yogurt. His dark eyes flicker to mine and I glare back at him, slowly chewing my Cheerios. That’s right, dick. _Now_ what do you have to say to me?

He spoons another mouthful of yogurt in his mouth and raises his eyebrows, shrugging. “At least I won’t fuck sorority chicks behind your back.”

I huff, blushing furiously. “He doesn’t do that!” Then I shovel back the rest of my cereal and hop off my stool. “I’m going to watch TV.”

He doesn’t respond.

Rose is upset that I’m not coming back to school. I’m pretty pissed myself, but I don’t know if I can convince Ben to let me go. I’m almost done and I can still see her when she’s done and on weekends. I let Armie know too and he’s more excited.

  _I’m technically not dating a high-schooler,_ he jokes.

Funny. I chuck my phone on the coffee table and Ben collapses beside me on the couch. He puts his feet up, slinging an arm around my shoulders, and yawns. He smells faintly like toothpaste and coffee. His warm thigh presses to mine and I try to keep my eyes off his gray sweatpants.

We sit in silence. _Seinfeld_ is on, which I don’t find funny, but I’m not about to broach the awkward subject of kissing Ben. I toy with the string on my pajama bottoms and wonder when I should go get dressed. I don’t have anywhere to go…

I clear my throat. “I want to keep going to school.”

Ben sips his coffee and doesn’t look at me. “You will—online. Then I don’t have to worry about where you are or who you’re with.”

Anger burns in my stomach. I cast Ben a sideways glower and cross my arms over my chest.

 “Because I’ll be here being molested by my uncle, right?”

He smiles and leans forward to set his mug down on the table. I give him a smug look until he seizes my hair at my nape and yanks hard, drawing a hiss from me. Ben kisses my forehead chastely, lips drifting along to my ear.

 “Exactly,” he whispers.

My spine prickles. He lets go and watches me stumble to my feet, panting and trembling. I swallow hard and cross my arms over my chest. Ben looks amused by all of it and I get the same vibe I did from him last night in bed.

 “I’m telling the cops!” I snap. I grind my teeth, nervous under his stare. “Unless you let me go back to school.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

 “…Yes.” I stamp my foot indignantly. “I—I’ll do it.”

Ben’s smile takes on an eerie edge. He rises from the couch and saunters toward me, hands in his pockets. I try to stay in my spot and keep my eyes on his as he wanders closer, shadow eclipsing me along the way. He steps close enough that I teeter back a step, but he follows. We start walking.

 “Are you… threatening me?” he asks, disingenuous. He herds me toward the stairs. “I hope you’re not _threatening_ me, Rey.”

I stumble up the first step. “It’s not a threat to tell the truth.”

He grasps the rail on either side of the stairs, taking them slowly. “I think reporting me to the police is a threat—and I _know_ you don’t want to do that, because you liked what we did.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance. I hesitate in the middle of the staircase, squirming my toes on the cold wood, chewing my lower lip. I don’t like it. I’m not a sicko who fucks around with her uncle. My pulse flutters as Ben draws even closer and forces me to back up onto the landing.

It’s dark and dreary like always and I hate it. The floor creaks underfoot as I slip quickly into my bedroom and try to slam the door shut behind me. Ben catches it on his palm and shoves it open, knocking me over.

Panting, I scramble up on my hands on knees, crawling away, but flip over when I feel his fingers on my hips. Ben crawls over me, pinning me to the floor with his hips between my thighs. He’s heavy and I can only kick my legs in protest.

 “Where are you going, hm?” He ignores my frantic hands scratching at his back and buries his face in my hair. He inhales deeply and rolls his hard-on against me in slow, torturous circles. “Daddy needs to punish you.”

Ben jerks his hips, drawing a strangled moan from me. He seizes my jaw in one hand and pushes my lips together until my skin stings from strain. I glower until his thrusts hard again, knocking my head off the floor. Pleasure blooms where his cock rubs against me and I swallow hard.

He lowers his hand to gently curl around my neck. Ben squeezes, and my struggling slows.

 “That’s my good girl.” He strokes my throat with his thumb, breathing at the corner of my mouth. “I think I’ll molest you a little bit more today.”

 “Let go of me!” I snap, pretending I don’t want it.

Then he kisses me and all my feigned loathing disappears. I dig my nails into his shoulder blades and drag his mouth closer, knocking our teeth, and Ben slips his tongue through my lips. He grabs my thigh to hitch on his hip and chases my mouth when I break our kiss.

 “Don’t be like that, Rey,” he whispers. He pushes down on my throat and I wheeze, scrabbling at his wrist. “Tell daddy you’re sorry.”

 “You’re not my father!” I croak.

Ben raises his eyebrows and suddenly pulls me off the floor. He throws me on my bed and mounts me from behind, again using his weight to pin me. The bed creaks and rattles on the wall as I cough and hiss and he slips a hand between my thighs.

His fingers paw under the hem of my panties and slide through my folds. I redden, humiliated, and Ben curls an arm over my forearms to restrain them near the pillows. We pant and adjust on the sheets, struggling quietly with each other, until I let out a breathy gasp of pleasure.

Ben laughs in my ear. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” He rolls his hips against my ass and groans, fingertip circling my clit. “You’re so squirmy today. Why so shy?”

 “This isn’t right,” I mumble. I mouth at my pillow as his fingers slip deeper, trying to keep quiet.

 “No one’s going to know except us.” He rubs the heel of his palm on my clit and brushes a digit alongside my already wet entrance. “We’re all alone out here. Just you and me.”

I bite my pillow as Ben worms his finger inside me. He kisses the crux of my neck and shoulder, murmuring appreciatively when I moan. It feels good… feels _so_ good. My hips roll on instinct and before I know it, I’m fucking myself on his finger again. He adds a second.

 “You had sex yet?” he whispers.

I shake my head, tasting nothing but cotton in my mouth. My heart skips a beat.

Ben yanks on the hem of my jeans and I hear fabric rustling behind me. He gets my pants down to my knees and I jump when I feel his hot length press between my thighs. Holy shit. We need to stop doing this right now before—

 “Daddy’s going to take your virginity, then,” Ben coos in my ear.

I stiffen at the pressure of his cock where his fingers just were. Shocked, I squirm up and away, but he yanks my hair to keel me arched against him. I’m not totally against the idea of having sex, but it’s happening fast and I’m not sure if I’m ready for it. My mouth runs dry.

Ben strokes the head through my folds, lubing himself up. He dips in an inch until I jerk in pain, then pulls back and bobs slower. I’m turned on and confused and feel a little like I need to puke. No condom and I didn’t take my pill this morning. I never worried much because I want at any risk of getting pregnant.

 “Uncle Ben?” I venture. “Um, I need my… pills.”

He prods deeper. My flesh gives way.

 “Don’t worry.” He breathes on the back of my head, nuzzling my hair. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you.”

I grunt as Ben begins piling in the inches, no longer hesitating. He’s hot and hard and it’s skin-to-skin, raw and so fucking arousing. My flesh accommodates his cock in a satisfying painful stretch and he groans and swears behind me. I squirm, wincing and holding back whimpers.

I’m doing this—I need to stop, but I’m doing this.

Ben grabs my hip and buries himself to the hilt with a guttural grunt. He rocks and reaches for my clit again, encouraging me to twist my hips into his groin. I’m stretched full of him and I’m so sensitive that I come a couple seconds after he touches me.

My walls clench and twist around him and Ben swears into the pillow while I wail. It’s intense and fast, and I sag to the mattress when it’s over. He draws back, grasping both hips and pounding into my limp body with wild abandon.

 “Fuck yes!” Ben spits. “That’s what I fucking want!” His punishing thrusts force hard gasps from me and I’m too dazed to keep up. “You like daddy’s cock, don’t you?”

I nod, listening to the sound of flesh slapping together, enjoying the sensation of my uncle buried inside me. It’s okay. We didn’t know each other for most of my life, so…

He pulls out and flips me on my back. Our eyes meet as Ben pumps his cock, now glistening with blood and my juices, then yanks my jeans down to my ankles. He pushes his other hand up my shirt to play with my boobs and alternates between them like he can’t get enough.

 “What’s your boyfriend going to think?” Ben breathes. He pushes inside me again, squeezing my breast and nodding when I moan. “You going to tell him your uncle came inside you?”

 “You’re—not pulling out?” I pant.

He smiles, throat bobbing. “No. You’re mine now, Rey.”

I stare at him and he presses his forehead to mine, closing his eyes, breathing in time with me. The sensation is different this way and I’m forced to _really_ grapple with fucking my uncle. He strokes my nipple in slow circles and cups my cheek, slowing to gentler thrusts and whispering against my lips. I kiss him of my own volition and soon we’re making out tenderly, which somehow makes the whole thing even more fucked up.

Ben huffs, twitching inside me. “I’m going to come.” He snaps his hips. “Oh, god—I can’t believe this is happening—you want me to cum in you, baby? Want Uncle Ben’s cum?”

 “Yes,” I simper, “yes, please.”

 “Yes please; fuck, that’s hot.” He takes a sharp breath and shudders. His skin brushes against mine, sweaty and warm. “You’re so soft. Feels so good—”

I clutch Ben’s shoulder blades as he suddenly climaxes with another expletive. He jerks roughly into me, bucking his hips, and I feel his cock throb and pulse with his orgasm. His muscles shift under my fingertips and I come right with him, squeaking in his ear. He kisses me hard on the lips as his climax peters out and he groans in my mouth.

We both struggle to catch our breath and keep making out in the meantime. Ben strains closer and I curl my legs over his calves, pulse pounding in my ears. Okay. We did it. We _did it._

 “I love you, Rey,” he whispers. He kisses a line from the corner of my mouth down my neck. “I’m not letting someone like Poe fucking Dameron fuck your life up.”

I frown, breathing hard under Ben’s weight. “W—what? Poe Dameron?”

 “Mhm.” Ben lazily rolls my skin through his teeth. “He’s the one who knocked your mom up in high school. Pretty sure he’s your father.”

All of a sudden, I can’t breathe at all.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why am i writing this fucking atrocity lmfao  
> also stolenkisses i sort of worked in the scene u wanted???? sort of lmao

I stare up at Ben. “M—My dad is—”

My uncle is still buried inside me and I’m leaking his cum. He kisses along my cheek, completely at his own leisure, like what he just said is no big deal. I throb painfully between my legs and tighten around him, drawing a soft groan from his throat.

 “Fuck, Rey,” Ben laughs breathlessly. He grazes a hand down my thigh and pushes deeper. “I’m old. I can’t get it up again that fast.”

I try to squirm away from him, ears ringing. Mom and dad met in high school and she got pregnant with me really young. I—I don’t have another father. Uncle Ben doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He’s nuts.

He growls like he’s teasing me and his lips roam along my throat. I’m so shocked that I can’t catch my breath to refuse or push him off me. I gulp for air like a fish as Ben shifts his hips between my thighs and rocks his flaccid cock inside me. Cum squishes around, leaking onto the comforter.

 “Maybe I can,” he mumbles. He grabs the headboard and jerks deeper, puffing on my neck. “You’re so fucking tight. You like being filled up with my cum, sweetheart? You want more?”

 “He’s not my father,” I manage, shaking my head. “I don’t even know him!”

Ben thrusts harder and I feel him gradually stiffening inside me again. Sweat beads on our skin, sliding us together, and I wriggle my hips to escape from under him. But he’s heavy and strong and my squirming just seems to turn him on even more. He grunts, hovering above me with his lips parted and black hair draped across his face.

 “Who knows? Kira got around.” One big hand cups my cheek and Ben smiles, panting and fucking me into the mattress. He strokes his thumb across my skin. “You could even be mine.”

My heart falls through my stomach in one sickening, painful plunge. _What?_

I stare at him, silently shaking my head. He pouts his lower lip and rests his forehead on mine, still fucking me like nothing is wrong. The bed creaks in time with Ben’s thrusts and I kick my ankles in my jeans, shaking my head faster and faster. No… no…

 “What’s wrong?” he whispers. “Don’t want daddy’s cock anymore?”

What is he _doing?_ Is this a sex thing? Does he think it’s funny?

I blink at him, swallowing hard. “I don’t understand.” My nails sink into his hips and follow the rolling motion of his hips. “I—I don’t understand.”

 “Pretty sure your Dameron’s,” Ben continues, huffing a laugh. “I wouldn’t fuck my own daughter. Sister? Sure. Niece? Definitely. But my _daughter_?” His dark eyes flicker back and he takes a sharp breath. “That’s just fucked up.”

He climaxes a couple moments later, groaning and grinding it out inside me. I feel him pulse and spurt and he swears under his breath. It’s shorter than the last time, and he kisses me in the middle of his orgasm, dipping his tongue in my mouth. I’m too confused to be aroused by it.

Ben sighs when he’s done, peppering my face with more kisses. He stretches his long legs and tries to nuzzle under my jaw to bask in the afterglow, but I shove him off me. He rolls on his back and stretches again as I stumble to my feet. Cum drips down my thighs.

Trembling, I yank off my jeans and try to pull my panties up. Ben smiles and watches, curling his arms behind his head. His sweatpants are down to his knees, cock limp and glistening from my bodily fluids and his semen. It’s stained pink from blood.

 “Wish I could take a picture of you right now.” His dark eyes sweep down my quivering legs and his smile widens. “You look so hot.”

 “Did you…?” I stare at him, on the verge of tears. “Did you and my mother…?”

Ben raises his eyebrows. “Fuck?”

Oh god. I manage a nod, revolted by even asking the question. I don’t even know who I’m looking at right now. Why would he mention that, especially in the middle of sex? Does he get off on it?

He clicks his tongue and rises from the bed, adjusting his sweatpants. I keep staring as Ben saunters over to me with a relaxed expression. He reaches out to fix my hair with one big hand and cups my face in both hands. He presses a kiss to my forehead and I stare at his bare chest.

 “Yes,” he admits after a minute, mumbling against my forehead, “we did.”

My spine prickles, ice dripping down it. I take a quick step back, putting space between us, and Ben runs a hand through his hair. I gape at him like I’m waiting for a good reason _why_ or _how_ or _when._ Nothing comes. He just puts his hands in his pockets and gazes back at me.

I cover my mouth and shake my head. “No. No you didn’t.”

 “We did.” Ben shrugs. “Your mother started it. She was a huge whore.”

 “My mother was not a—!” I stop abruptly, refusing to say the word. Tears roll down my cheeks and I shudder, on the verge of vomiting. “Is that why you wanted me? Are you thinking about my _mother?!_ ”

Ben frowns and wanders closer to me. I back away, but he catches my wrist and yanks me to his chest, hugging me. My cum-slicked thighs rub together as I erupt into screams and struggle to get away from my uncle, horrified.

 “Stop!” he snaps. He hugs me closer and grinds his teeth, then his voice drops back to syrupy and sweet. “Stop, honey. _Stop._ I’m not thinking about Kira, okay? Just you.”

 “You had sex with my mother, you fucking sicko!”

 “And _you_ —” Ben boops my nose with his index finger. “Had sex with your uncle. Maybe father… probably not. We could do a paternity test if you want; see if you’re an uncle fucker or a father fucker.”

Jesus Christ. Jesus CHRIST.

I slap him hard across the face and he laughs, working his jaw and rubbing his cheek. The room spins as I storm out of it to the landing, clutching my head. What am I _doing?!_ What have I done?! I’m covered in his sweat and pooling his cum in my panties and he’s my uncle and—

Bile swells in my stomach and I almost puke on myself. Ben comes up behind me wraps his arms around my waist, whispering in my ear, and I struggle to get away. He edges me toward his bedroom and slips his hand down the front of my panties, smearing his fingers through his cum.

 “I love you no matter what.” Ben nuzzles my temple and strokes gently, shushing my whimpers. “Why don’t we cuddle for a little while, hm?”

 “You only brought me here to fuck me,” I sob, sagging over his forearm.

He gasps softly like he’s offended and kisses the back of my head while pulling back his sheets. I’m a little hysterical—I don’t know what to say or think and my body still reacts to his touch. He helps me under the covers, cooing to me like I’m an injured bird trying to fly away from him.

 “You’re okay,” Ben whispers. The sheets come up to my chin and he tenderly kisses my neck. “You’re okay, little one. I brought you here to keep you safe from people like Poe and Hux.” He plays with my clit outside my panties, humming when I squirm. “This is just a nice bonus.”

I sniffle, then moan as his hand worms under the hem of my panties. He crooks his arm so he can pet my hair while his fingers lazily tease my clit, slowly bringing me to climax. His bed smells like some masculine shampoo and whiskey. I come close to thinking about my dad.

My chest tightens and the tears come back again. “Are you sure you’re not thinking about her?” I don’t know why, but that makes it extra disgusting. I don’t want to be used.

 “I’m sure,” he murmurs. “I just wanted you to know the truth, Rey.” Ben kisses the shell of my ear and his middle finger glides inside me. I stiffen and groan. “There’s my good girl. Nice and wet for her Uncle Ben.”

I huff, torn between the orgasm tensing in my muscles and _not_ letting my uncle bring me to climax. This is so wrong. I need to call grandma and grandpa and tell them everything.

But we’re all alone in the middle of the woods and I’ve been so lonely since my parents died. Ben knew them and he knows me better than anyone else, and this feels so good. Plus, no one’s going to find out. We can have sex and share things that won’t ever leave the house.

He sighs, contented. “I can feel you getting tighter. Felt your little pussy come all over my cock earlier.” His finger bends, stroking a spot that makes me gasp. “You sound so sweet. You’re so beautiful, Rey.”

It puts me over the edge. Moaning, I buck my hips into Ben’s waiting hand and tighten around his finger inside me. He growls ‘fuck yes’ in my ear and I cling to his wrist with one hand, riding it out and panting his name.

I heave for air when I’m through, shaking and sweating. Ben kisses my cheek and slurps my essence off his middle finger, groaning appreciatively behind me. His phone rings on the nightstand and he turns to pick it up while I squeeze my eyes shut. What the hell am I doing?

 “Hey, mom,” Ben says with a yawn. “Yeah, I just got back from a jog. What’s up?”

He kisses my temple and slips out of bed. I watch him put a shirt on and head into his bathroom, laughing at something Leia says. This time I try to enjoy the warm afterglow of my orgasm, warring with common sense and suspicion. He’s in love with my dead mother and using me. That _has_ to be the explanation. But now that we’ve had sex, it’s extra disgusting to think about.

The shower turns on in the bathroom. Ben comes back for me a minute later, still chatting with Leia, and motions for me to get out of bed. I do, knees literally knocking, and he balances his phone on his shoulder to help me finish getting undressed. He furrows his brow and cups my cheek, bending to look me in the eyes.

 “You okay?” he whispers.

I shake my head, afraid I’ll cry if I open my mouth. Ben snaps an excuse to hang up with Leia and tosses the phone on the bed. He embraces me, all warm and soft and huge, and I hug him back and cry. I’m a complete fucking mess.

 “Why are you doing this?!” I sob. “Why did you tell me all that?!”

 “Because I have a surprise for you and it only makes sense if you know Poe Dameron might be your father.” He kisses my temple. “Or me.”

I break out of his arms, bristling. “Stop saying that! You are _not_ my father!”

Ben smiles, smug. “Only in bed?”

Furious, I try to slap him across the face again, but he catches my wrist in midair. I scream as he wrestles me down the hall to the shower, pushing me inside, then peels off his shirt and sweatpants. He looms over me, broad shoulders a passive threat. He’s twice my size.

 “Come on; it was just a joke.” Ben steps in the shower and seizes my wrists, smirking and leaning in close. “Even if I am, we’ve still already had sex. Might as well keep going.”

He laughs when I swear and struggle. Ben reaches up for the shower wand and sprays my stomach, changing my hissing into shrieks, and I pound my fists on his chest. A long arm winds around my waist and he growls, burying his face in my neck. The cool water beats on my back down to my tailbone and back up again over my head.

Ben’s cock stiffens on my stomach. He makes a surprised sound and lets me go for a minute to wash it off, now hard and pointing up toward me. I cover my face and turn away to wash my hair.

 “Christ. I haven’t been like this since college.” He slaps my ass and yanks on the hair at my nape, bending my neck back. “All you, sweetheart. I love you.”

 “Get away from me!” I snap.

Then he shoves me into the wall and I almost slip and fall on my face. Before I can regain my bearings, he penetrates up inside me, impaling my cunt with one sharp thrust. My eyes widen in shock, toes scraping madly at the tile.

 “ _Fuck_ yes.” Ben works my hips on his cock, groaning. “All you, Rey. All you. Going to come in that sweet little pussy again and you’re going to like it again.”

It stings. I have to cling to the wall to keep from teetering over but a thrill passes through me like a shot of adrenaline. This is sort of hot. He’s fucking me hard, ruthless, dragging my hips back with each punishing thrust. Water cascades down my back and through my soapy hair, drowning out Ben’s grunts and my puffs when he bottoms out.

He barks orders for me to say his name and tell him who he’s thinking about. I do my best to croak my answers until he finally comes with a loud stream of curses. Ben slaps my ass hard, pumping his way through each throb of his orgasm.

I manage to stand after he slips out of me. He spins me around and kisses me hungrily, cupping my face in both hands—and despite common sense, I kiss him back. He pins me to the wall and works two fingers inside me, thrusting them fast, breathing on my neck. My toes curl.

 “You’re going to bring your boyfriend over here and dump him while I watch.” Ben shifts his feet and I realize he’s shaking. “You’ll wear those panties with my cum all over them, and after I’m going to bend you over the couch and fuck you out in the open.”

I come apart again after he dips his lips to my breasts. He sucks on my nipples until I shove his face away and stumble out of the shower. I’m clean, but I feel fucking filthy.

Ben dries us off and dresses me in his T-shirt and clean blue panties. He puts on sweatpants and a shirt and leads me downstairs without pants on. I tug the hem of the shirt down and make a beeline for my birth control right off the bat.

He wraps his arms around me from behind again while I swallow the pill. My hand trembles as I tuck the packet back into my purse.

 “What, don’t want babies with flippers?” Ben laughs and snuggles my temple. “Let’s go see your present in the basement. I think you’ll like it—kept me busy while I waited for you to come around.”

 “…What is it?” I ask, swallowing a lump in my throat.

 “It’s something you need to see to believe.”

Something about that sounds ominous.

Ben opens a drawer in one of the end tables and takes out a small gray box with a combination. He slides it in and the box pops open, revealing a golden key. Our eyes meet and he smiles.

 “Now that you know how much I love you…” He shuts the drawer and pads over to the basement door. “You’ll understand why I do the things I do.”

I stare, dread blooming in my belly. Something’s seriously wrong. The door creaks open and Ben offers me his hand, beaming.

 “Come with me, sweetheart.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doesn't beat the plot twist in auribus teneo lupum or close encounters of the fifth kind, but def a contender
> 
> cw dead body

Stupidly, I take Ben’s hand.

He knits his long fingers through mine and gently tugs me closer, planting a kiss to my forehead. Then he turns and guides me into the dark basement, to a landing that plunges straight down into the musty emptiness below.

 “Watch your step,” he cautions on the first creaky step. “I haven’t gotten around to fixing these yet.” He smiles back at me, dark eyes alight with something new. “I love you, Rey.”

I laugh uncomfortably. “You’re awful touchy-feely all of a sudden, huh?”

Ben shrugs and steps over a dark stain on the next step. “I’ve waited a long time for this—done a lot of bad things to make it happen. I like being able to tell you that I love you.”

 “You could’ve just come home to visit.”

He doesn’t respond. I skirt the stain and happen to glance at the wall beside us.

Another dark spot smears across the stone, right next to a very obvious bloody handprint. It’s hard to see in the ominous darkness, but it’s _definitely_ a hand, and it’s big enough to be Ben’s.

I balk at the bottom of the stairs. Ben notices what I’m staring at and laughs. My gaze flickers to him and my heart skips a beat. Why is he laughing?

 “I saw you plenty of times, Rey.” He yanks me off the last step to his chest, reaching up for a pull cord and smiling down at me. “You just didn’t know it.”

Weak light fills the basement—and it’s not empty.

It’s _filled_ with pictures of me. I gape at the mesmerizing, horrifying sight of my face all over the dirty walls, some passing over a big metal door and others above a bed in the corner. It’s neat and clean, with some pictures of me above it on the low ceiling. They’re all candids, save for a few from school pictures while I grew up.

Ben leads me along as if nothing’s wrong. We walk across an unfinished floor still dusty with dirt and I struggle to look around, terrified. I never met Uncle Ben. How the _hell_ has he been… stalking me? Why didn’t he just introduce himself?

 “Jessika kept me occupied up until a few days ago,” Ben says conversationally. He types in a code to the door and sighs. “Made an awful fucking racket, though.”

I catch sight of a wall lined with shiny silver tools, like a hacksaw and pliers. They’re all squeaky clean and right beside a sink with a scrub brush. Nausea creeps up on me at the same time as realization.

Ben drags open the metal door, suffusing us in cold as the light inside flickers on. He whistles and pulls me just inside the entrance.

Body bags line the inside of the freezer. They’re suspended on meat hooks, at least five of them, but I’m too revolted to take count. My pulse thunders in my ears and I jump when Ben settles his huge hands on my shoulders and squeezes. His warm breath tickles my ear.

 “Let me show you your surprise,” he whispers.

I’m too shocked to make a sound. Ben gently pushes me deeper into the humming freezer to a bag in the very back. He reaches up for the zipper and pulls it down just a few inches so I can see the face within.

It’s… him. I struggle to connect the pieces in my head as I stare at a very dead man who looks almost exactly like my Uncle Ben. There’s a slight difference in the nose, and maybe his lips are thinner, but they look like twins. His pale skin has a blue hue from the cold, black hair hanging in a tangle around his face. I furrow my brow as Ben rubs my upper arms.

 “Han Solo gets around, just like your mother did—and just like Poe Dameron does.” He grits his teeth, steadying himself before he continues. “He had a fight with Leia one night and met my mother.”

Oh _no._ My eyes widen.

 “She never told him. She was a cheap hooker and died right after she gave birth to me, so I got to grow up bouncing around foster homes. I tracked Han down, though—found out he had a happy little family, and a son who looked just like me.”

 “You’re not Uncle Ben,” I falter.

He zips up the bag and nuzzles my temple. “No, I’m not.”

Dread like I’ve never felt buzzes in my brain. Ben shows me the other corpses, one of them Jessika and the other few nameless women he decided to kill. He guides me out of the freezer and locks it behind us, then leads me to the bed in the corner.

 “My real name is Kylo Ren,” he says, “but I’ve assumed Ben’s identity for so long that either name works.” He sits me down on the edge of the bed and shrugs. “Killed him when he moved out here. I use his old manuscripts to keep money coming in.”

Kylo opens the nightstand and withdraws a needle. I jerk my arm away but he injects me with some clear fluid, anyway.

I start crying. “Are you going to kill me?”

He blinks at me and bursts out laughing. “What’s the fucking point of that?! That’s just Valium, you goof. You’re going to really freak out when the shock wears off.” The needle goes back in the drawer and he crouches in front of me, hands on my knees. “I won’t hurt you. I love you, Rey.”

That was why Han kept staring at him during dinner and at the hotel. He could _tell_ something was off. And it was why Ben became so reclusive when he moved out to Washington—he was fucking _dead._

The drug kicks in and I sway where I’m sitting, crying softly. Kylo pouts and keeps watching me like he’s waiting for something to happen. I feel sick. I’m going to pass out.

 “This is why you needed to know about Poe,” he murmurs. “He’s a bad person, just like Han, and he ruined Kira. So did Ben. And they’re both going to pay for it.” He raises his eyebrows, sighing. “I already put her out of her misery.”

I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut. “Please don’t tell me you hurt my parents.” A strangled sob escapes my throat, drawing Kylo to his feet. “I—I had _sex_ with you!”

 “Yes you did, little one. But it’s okay.” He sits next to me, wrapping an arm around my waist. “I thought I should put you down, too, in case Ben was your father—but I ended up just watching you grow up instead. You’re another victim of that awful fucking family. I knew we were meant to be together.”

 “You killed my parents!” I wail, too weak to run or attack him.

 “Technically, faulty brakes killed your parents.”

My wail turns into a piercing scream and I struggle to get away. Kylo shushes me and peels back the covers to situate me under them. He slips in beside me and curls up to my side, nuzzling my cheek like a puppy.

 “I spent so many years learning the ins and outs of the entire family… now I finally have you here.” He kisses my neck and I startle, afraid he’s going to force me to go further. “Hush, sweetheart. I’m not going to make you do anything. I just want to kiss you for a little bit.”

And he does. I writhe uselessly for a few minutes as the drug worms deeper in my head and then I go slack. Kylo litters my neck with hickies while I’m forced to look up at the pictures of me on the dark ceiling and wonder how I never noticed him following me. He’s enormous. How did he hide in plain sight?

I close my eyes and think about my parents. This guy is fucking crazy. My dad is my dad. Uncle Ben probably never did anything with my mom, and some random guy in Washington is not my father. At least I know it’s not the guy draped all over me.

 “Now I don’t have to play the part anymore,” Kylo mumbles. He leans across me and I hear jangling. “You know, your mother was the aggressor with Ben. I read all about it in his therapist’s notes. She fucked him up pretty badly.”

 “Don’t talk about my mother!” I hiss.

A handcuff slaps around my left wrist. Kylo shifts around to lie underneath me, positioning my back to his chest. His heart thrums on my spine.

 “People like her are good at hiding how evil they are.” He scratches his jaw and I feel his lungs inflate. “I worried she’d do something to you; fucking rapist she was. Ben came out here to hide from her and I set him free.”

My mom wasn’t capable of something so horrible. She always smiled and baked cookies for after school, and she rarely fought with dad. I gaze at a picture of me with pigtails and descend into another crying jag. I want my mom.

True to his word, Kylo doesn’t try anything. He strokes my hair and hums for a while until he seems to drift off to sleep. The chain around my wrist is bored into the wall, so I have no chance of escaping. I couldn’t make it up the stairs, anyway. The Valium makes my head spin.

This man isn’t my Uncle Ben, and he’s _killed people._ He even caused the accident that killed my parents. It makes having had sex with him even worse than before; maybe sicker than if he were my father. I didn’t know when we did it, but I know now, and I can’t live with it.

Sniffling, I manage to turn over in the bed and lie flat across Kylo. He stirs in his sleep, blinking blearily and smiling when our eyes meet. The chain rattles on the metal headboard as I straddle his hips and draw myself upright. Trembling, beside myself with grief, I wrap my hands around his throat, pushing my thumbs on his windpipe.

He swallows, bobbing his Adam’s apple on my finger. “I know you’re upset, honey. Confused.” Kylo easily breaks my hold on him, holding my wrists, and I sag and cry again. “But you don’t have an evil bone in that sweet little body.”

I wish I did. I wish I could crush his throat so he’d stop saying horrible things about my family. He sets his hands on my hips and I clutch the front of his shirt to keep from teetering over. It rubs his cock between my legs and I bite my lip, then scream even louder than before.

 “It’s okay,” Kylo coos. He drags me down to his chest and wraps his arms around me. I taste salt on his neck. “I won’t hurt you—I just don’t want you to run away from me.”

 “I want my mom,” I moan. “I want my mom…” I shift on his warm body and feel his erection again. “Y-you’re making all this u-up!”

He huffs, jerking his hips a bit. “I have all kinds of things to prove it’s all true—Ben’s notes from therapy, journals, birth certificates… Whatever you need. I can show you what bad people they all are and how much I love you.”

Kylo leans over to the nightstand and opens a black box with another combination. He sits up with me between his legs and shows me all kinds of things I never wanted to see.

My hands tremble as I read one of Uncle Ben’s journal entries about my mom threatening one of his girlfriends. Soon it turns into accounts of her sneaking in his room at night and I’m so revolted that I throw it off the bed. Kylo hugs me from behind and kisses my neck.

I don’t resist. Papers scatter as I lean forward, maybe trying to escape at first, but then I push my butt into his groin. I cling to the iron footboard as he grasps my hips and slowly rolls his cock against me, groaning in the darkness. He pushes more papers off the bed and tugs down my panties.

 “I love you so much, Rey.” The bed creaks and he’s pushing inside me. “You’re such a good girl.”

I’ve no idea what I’m doing. I’m half high from the Valium, half traumatized from what I’ve seen and learned, but I can get lost in the sensation of sex. Kylo yanks my hips closer and I slouch on the mattress, blinking slowly at the wall of tools.

I’m too wasted to come, but Kylo does a few minutes later, grunting and pounding into me. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of our skin slapping together until his hips still and he groans into the darkness. He swells and spills inside me, gently working my hips up and down his length.

Kylo drapes across my back, panting, and kisses my temple. He rocks us back and forth, trying to get hard again. I feel his cum squish inside me.

 “It’s always been you,” he whispers in my ear. He dips a hand between my thighs, sighing when I moan. “I love you so much, Rey.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol hi guys

 “Rey?”

It’s hard for me to pull out of unconsciousness, but I manage to at the sound of Kylo’s voice. The handcuff rattles as I whimper my way awake and I feel his palm cup my cheek.

His warm, naked body presses to my side—and I’m naked, too. My eyes roam the dark ceiling littered with pictures of me as Kylo slips something in my mouth. He traces my lips with his fingertip and inhales the scent of my hair along the side of my head.

 “How did you sleep?” he whispers.

Slowly, I become aware of his cum still leaking out of me. I huff, tears beading in my eyes, and Kylo curls closer to nuzzle my temple.

 ”Shh…” He draws a hand over my nipple and down to my thigh, pinkie brushing my slit. “I gave you some medicine to help you relax. Your boyfriend is coming over soon.”

Hux? I frown at the thought of that.

Kylo kisses along my throat, lips lingering and sucking, and the drug slowly begins to kick in. I’m not sure why he’s bothered, since I’m still trashed on the Valium, but then my mind wanders off into a colorful tailspin. All I can feel is the brush on his tongue on my skin and the slow thrum of his heart.

I sigh. I’m not worried about being held captive, or the dead bodies, or my mom torturing her younger brother. Kylo gently shifts his weight on top of me and kisses down my body in a soft trail and that’s all I think about. It feels nice.

My hand reaches out to touch his silky black hair as he dips between my thighs. I run my fingers through his locks, gasping when he presses a kiss to my mound. I’m not afraid. It feels like I had a couple glasses of wine and I’m lounging around on a Sunday afternoon.

Kylo’s dark eyes flicker to mine. “We’ll go upstairs soon. Pretty things like you aren’t meant to fester in basements.”

The doorbell rings. He lifts his head, encircling my wrist with two long fingers to press a kiss to my knuckles. His thumb rubs the heel of my palm. I stare, mesmerized. I’m floating.

 “Our guest is here.” Kylo smiles eerily, but my wasted brain admires his shiny white teeth. “Time to welcome him, Rey.”

 “…Okay.”

I’m helped out of the bed. I can’t walk for shit and Kylo takes great pleasure in carrying me up the stairs. I touch his jaw with religious reverence, relishing the sensation of his stubble under my fingertips. Scratchy.

Kylo sets me on the couch and I examine my hands. A trail of pale light follows them when they move, dancing in the darkness like I’m in a dream. I flex my fingers, lips parted. Wow. I’m all skin and bone and humming electricity. Just a lump of flesh with circuits.

The door opens. I don’t turn when I hear Hux’s voice and I don’t pay him much attention when he sits beside me. He places a pale hand on my knee and I look away from my hands for a moment, as if I’ve no idea what he wants. His green eyes study me with concern.

 “…Rey?” he ventures, unsure. “Are you feeling alright?”

 “She’s been better.” Kylo lurks somewhere on the periphery. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Tell him.”

I gaze at Hux, fighting to make his kaleidoscopic face piece together in one fractured image. He frowns.

 “We have to break up,” I slur.

Hux blinks. “Uh… okay.” He peers at something—maybe Kylo. “Is she okay?”

 “She’s fine. Don’t you worry about Rey.”

There’s a flurry of movement. I watch Uncle… Ben? Kylo? Who is this man, anyway?

He loops something around my boyfriend’s neck and yanks back. Hux coughs and splutters as he’s choked, long arms flailing for help, reaching for Kylo. I don’t move. I sit and gape, watching each passing second as the life leaves Armie’s body. His face swells and turns purple.

Kylo huffs. “Just fucking die already.”

It’s pretty, in a way. The color. I blink slowly as Hux heaves for air, green eyes bulging—then he goes limp.

Kylo presses two fingers to the edge of Hux’s throat and lets off when he knows he’s dead. He drags my boyfriend over the back of the couch, flings him to the floor, and starts stomping on the corpse. I’m high as hell but the sound of crunching bones makes my stomach turn.

I whimper and slither off the couch to the floor. Kylo screams at the dead body like it makes a difference and then he starts throwing things around the living room. Glass shatters; maybe he punches a wall. I cower and cover my head. Just don’t hurt _me._

 “Don’t be scared, honey. Don’t be scared.” He touches the top of my head delicately. “I’ll never hurt you.”

Kylo tries to gather me in his arms but I squirm away, stumbling across the living room to the kitchen. I can see Hux’s bloody corpse behind the couch and now the pleasant colors blur into a nightmarish haze of black and red.

My uncle follows quietly, watching me stagger from room to room. He herds me toward the stairs, up them to the second floor, down the hall to his bedroom. I paw at the walls and cry. I want my mom and dad. I want to go home—I want grandma and grandpa. I want anything but this.

 “You look so pretty when you cry,” he whispers somewhere behind me.

We reach Kylo’s bedroom. He guides me to the bed, breath warm on my neck. I need my phone. I need to call for help.

On cue, Kylo’s phone rings from the nightstand. He huffs irately and picks it up as I sink obstinately to the floor in a tangle of limbs, crying in confusion from the drug he gave me. His long fingers comb through my hair, fretting over the flyaways.

 “Hi, dad,” he says. He draws his thumb under my eye to clear away tears. “Did you need something?”

 “Grandpa?” I whisper, kind of like a question, maybe mumbling it to make sure I remember who he is. I swallow and sag against the side of the bed. “Grandpa…?”

 “Rey’s taking a nap. She’s had a tough few days at school, so we both think it’s best that I homeschool her.” Kylo winks down at me, smiling. He pets me while Han says something and his expression tightens into a scowl. “I’d care about your opinion if _you_ had custody of her, Han, but I’m her new daddy.”

The floor ripples underneath me. Kylo cups my jaw to make me look up at him and licks his lips. I gape back at him, listening to the buzz of Han’s voice on the other end of the line.

Kylo frowns and presses the phone to his neck. “Get in bed, little one. You need to rest—I’ll bring you some supper.”

I stare, lips parted, slowly shaking my head. He cocks his head and raises his eyebrows, imploring me to speak.

 “I don’t…” I rasp. I hesitate to swallow down my parched throat. “I don’t want to have… have…”

 “We don’t need to make love again right now.” Kylo continues ignoring Han as he curves his long fingers through my hair. “I know your medicine is making you a little sleepy and teary right now, but you’ll learn to like it. Now rest up—daddy will be back soon.”

Another sob chokes out of me and I shake my head. He sighs and rests the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can lean over and scoop me up like the ragdoll I am.

Han’s berating him, but Kylo doesn’t seem to care. I’m settled under the covers, gazing at the swirl of color on the ceiling, and Kylo kisses me tenderly on my forehead before he leaves.

I’m not tired, but I’m certainly not going anywhere when I can barely tell up from down. I lie in a slump on this strange man’s bed and decide to cry instead. At least that makes me feel better.


	12. Finale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not a great ending but some closure

Kylo returns with beef barley soup a couple minutes later. He smiles as he approaches with it on a tray and I smile back. I’m so hungry.

He sets the tray on my lap and kisses my temple. I dig in eagerly, too hungry to care about whether or not it’s drugged. He has me right where he wants me. What do drugs matter?

Kylo sits beside my legs and grasps a foot to rub.

 “Love you,” he murmurs, smiling.

 “…Love you, too.”

I’m not a moron. I know he wants me to feed into his weird fantasy about us being in love. He beams and strokes the inner part of my foot while I gobble down the soup. It’s salty and warm. The beef has no fat and the carrots fall apart in my mouth. Yum.

I’m still reeling from the last dose of ‘medicine.’ I dribble soup down my chin and Kylo clicks and wipes it up with the side of his finger. Ugh… I’m so dizzy. How the hell am I getting out of here?

 “What are you going to do now?” I rasp.

 “Not much. We’re together now and that’s all that matters.” He fusses over my hair. “Let me worry about those things, honey.”

I finish my soup. Kylo sets the tray aside and gently guides me on my back in bed so I’m lying in the pillows. He spreads my legs, mumbling and kissing my inner thighs, and I cover my face. I’m trembling but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

The soup was laced, too—I relax after a few minutes of tender licking and kissing, and Kylo hitches my legs over his shoulders. He hums when I whimper and squirm, bucking my hips against his mouth, and I’m vaguely upset that the wet sounds he’s making are turning me on.

He traces circles on my outer thighs and takes his time. There’s no one to interrupt us.

The room spins. My breath hitches and I whine, pawing at his hair, then his tongue brushes just the right way across my clit and I’m coming. It feels different than usual: the drug makes light flash behind my eyes and weird patterns bloom. I moan and rock my hips; disoriented, just following instinct.

Kylo crawls up my body, licking his lips like a sated cat. He pushes down his pants and rubs his cock along my slit, lubing up, then slowly pushes inside. He watches my face scrunch up; not with pain, just the weird stretch of sex.

 “You’ll get used to it,” he laughs, breathless. He cups my cheek and bites his lower lip. “Much better with some medicine, isn’t it?”

I scrabble at his chest, whining, arching my hips as he takes me again, hot and hard. Kylo rests his forehead on mine and moves slow and steady, whispering against my lips, but I don’t know what he’s saying. I dig my nails into his hips.

Cool rainy air breezes in the window, wicking away beads of sweat trickling down Kylo’s broad back. I’m not sure how long we have sex, but it feels like a long session, much slower than normal. He kisses me and tries to slip his tongue in my mouth but I’m too fucked up to kiss him back the right way.

He cups my cheek. I stare into his dark eyes.

 “We’ll be so happy here,” he whispers. “Just us.”

I keep staring as he comes inside me. It’s odd watching the emotion flit across his face: he bites his lower lip, eyebrows raise for a split second, then he breaks into a smile and groans. He jerks harder and mumbles my name with each sharp penultimate thrust. I whimper.

Kylo stills and catches his breath in the pillow next to my head. He kisses my temple and rolls on his back, chest glistening and heaving. It’s dark. I shiver in the cold and my eyes blindly roam the room.

 “I love you so much.” He turns on his side and kisses my neck. “No one will bother us—”

The doorbell rings.

He stiffens. I swallow down my dry throat and raise my head, surprised by the sound. A visitor? Here?

Kylo growls and rolls out of bed. I watch him get dressed and head out of the room, then hear his feet thump down the stairs. Moaning, I manage to move on my side and gather my pajamas so I’m presentable. A guest… they can help me.

Cum drips down my thighs as I stumble out of the bed. I sway toward the door, squinting, and catch myself on the frame. Panting, I shuffle a couple quivering steps into the dark hallway and feel my way along the wall. It’s cold and quiet. Rain drums on the windows.

 “She’s asleep, dad. Tired kid.”

My heart pounds faster. I whimper and trip over my foot, almost twisting my ankle, hurrying for the stairs. The whimper grows into a small squeak that doesn’t reach a scream.

 “You’ve been awful fuckin’ quiet the past couple weeks.” Han—it’s Han. “Wanted to see her myself.”

 “Well, she’s sleeping. What, don’t you trust me?”

I reach the stairs. They ripple, but I have to get down them to see Han. I set my foot on the first wavering step.

Han huffs. “‘Bout as far as I can throw you. You’ve been distant the past few years, then you suddenly want to take Kira’s kid? Didn’t even come to her funeral.”

My voice cracks. “G-Gran—”

 “My flight was delayed,” Kylo says. He sounds tense.

I stumble down two more steps and it makes a racket. Feet clomp on the floor just as I raise the willpower to scream for help.

Han peers around the corner. I burst into tears at the sight of him and see a weird expression of rage and confusion pass over his face. He pivots, like he’s facing Kylo, then shifts back a step. He must’ve already run off—maybe he’s getting a gun. Maybe he’ll kill grandpa, too. I can’t deal with more dead bodies.

I blubber and hold out my arms as Han hurries up the stairs and grabs me. He doesn’t say much. He’s tense, but he smells like home, and he pats my back when we reach the front door.

 “Fuck,” Han snaps. He rips open the door and peers outside. “I have no fucking clue where he went.” He hesitates, then sets me on the porch. “Rey, go to my car—start the engine and if you see him walk out the front door, just start driving.”

 “No, no!” I shake my head furiously. “We have to leave! He’s… he’s…”

Something clicks.

Han shoves me down as Kylo fires his rifle, bullet whizzing over our heads. He swears and I hear the gun cock back as my grandpa scoops me up like a sack of potatoes and rushes down the stairs. My head spins and I sob and plead incoherently for Kylo to stop.

 “Give her BACK!” he screams. He fires—misses. Cocks again. “You son of a bitch! I’ll fucking kill you!”

The gun goes off again. It hits somewhere off in the woods thank god, then Han’s throwing open the backseat door and lays me inside. I open the door on the other side to puke on the gravel driveway.

Han slips in the driver’s seat. A bullet hits the windshield, splitting the glass, and I squeal in terror. I tug the door shut as the engine starts and Han peels out of the driveway, whipping around his SUV in the darkness and barreling towards the road and safety.

I paw up the headrest and stare out the rear window. Kylo’s on the porch for a split second, then he throws the gun and storms in the house.

I’m safe. Maybe.

Maybe I’ll never be safe again.


End file.
